


Everything Else Is Illusion

by queenofquiet17



Category: Will & Grace
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Bisexual Character, Comfy Clothes Karen, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Pre-Original Run, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 84,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofquiet17/pseuds/queenofquiet17
Summary: “Well, god, honey...I guess we are in the same boat.”“Good. That means we won’t be alone in this.”Karen didn’t bother to contain her smirk. “Oh, we won’t? How come?”She didn’t know if it was the drink that was fueling Grace, or if it was the truth. She didn’t know if Grace would regret it or double down on it when the sun came up. What she did know was that Grace knew how to make her feel every syllable that slipped from those lips. And she felt it when the redhead’s voice dropped a little lower as she leaned in and murmured, “Because I’m not done with you yet, Karen Delaney.”In 1994, a newly engaged Karen begins to second guess everything about what she wants, and decides to take a break from her relationship with Stan. Meanwhile, Grace breaks up with Danny and moves in with Will and his boyfriend, Michael, while she tries to figure out her next move. It isn't until they spot each other from across a crowded club that they begin to realize they were meant for something better. And it isn't until they fall in love with each other that they discover exactly who they were always meant to be.
Relationships: Grace Adler/Karen Walker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue: All There Is

**Author's Note:**

> In the wise words of Melissa Etheridge, "This one's gonna hurt like hell." But I promise I will fix whatever I end up breaking :-)
> 
> I've been working on this one for a long time. A _really_ long time. To the point where I didn't think it would ever be ready to start posting. But here we are. Thank you so much to my fic clique ([Bookworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface), [Kim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimmieRocks/pseuds/crinkle-eyed-boo), [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrighteryellow), and Shannon) for going on this journey with me, being patient when I take forever between chapters, and for all of the encouragement along the way. You have no idea how big a part you have in this, and I'm so grateful. <3
> 
> Every chapter is based off of a different Melissa Etheridge song, which is fitting for a story about self-discovery, seeing as how she played a huge part in my own. Once all of the chapters have been posted, I will share a Spotify playlist with all of the songs used (it's way too spoilery to put up now). This story also incorporates a lot more music than usual, so I've created a separate playlist with all of the artists/songs I mention [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/541g1ijXI07oa79uQ8K76f?si=BWFbjIBWSKa2ZMz_hrpnUw) if you feel like following along.
> 
> The song used for the prologue can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bhaAyEw9XFk)

_**“All there is** _   
_**Is atoms and space** _   
_**Everything else is illusion”** _

_September 1998_

When she thought about it--really, truly thought about it--there was no such thing as truth.

Everyone had their masks, everyone was playing the same game. Everyone was out there trying to show everyone else the best version of themselves. But the best version was always a lie in some way, always conforming to unspoken expectations. Age yourself down, age yourself up. Adhere to dress codes, try to look like everyone else in the room. Bite your tongue before you say what you mean. Say what you mean anyway and then pretend like it didn’t come out right. Do whatever it takes to fortify your walls, because they’re your only protection. They help you survive, even if they don’t help you thrive. You keep telling yourself that you’ll figure out how to thrive eventually, even though you realize it’s a promise you’re not sure you can keep.

If you’re lucky, you find someone you trust enough to start pulling out the bricks. If you’re lucky, that someone will be there to help you when the bricks are too heavy. They’ll carry the weight with you, their strength will surprise you. You’ll realize how wonderful it feels when the light peeks through and shines down on you. And you’ll wonder how you were ever able to live without that shine, without that freedom, without that ability to breathe. You’ll want to keep that feeling with you for the rest of your days. You’ll want to keep that _someone_ with you for the rest of your days.

But the funny thing about masks is that if you keep them on long enough, everyone around you starts to accept them as who you really are. And by the time you’re ready to take it off and reveal yourself, no one believes you when you finally do. Or maybe you meet someone who’s never seen the mask, someone you immediately trust to hold your true self in their hands, and you show yourself right from the start. You feel the light, you feel free, you can breathe. You feel like nothing can stop you because your walls aren’t stopping you. But then, one way or another, that mask eventually peeks its ugly little head around the corner and catches your someone’s eye. And your someone decides that you’ve been lying from the get, that your true self is your mask. And your someone decides to leave. And you’re left trying to put the heavy bricks of your wall back together again.

Karen had sworn she’d gotten it right this time. She had let her guard down, she had been exposed from day one. She didn’t play it like it was the kind of relationship she always seemed to find herself in, because the woman who had worked her way into her heart was unlike anybody she had ever met. She had never been more honest. She had never been more vulnerable. She had never felt more accepted, more appreciated, more respected, more loved. She had never before accepted, appreciated, respected, loved so much in return. She had been so certain that this could be it, that this could always be her life. There had been so much there, and it felt like she would never reach the end of it. She never _wanted_ to reach the end of it. But the mask she had long ago discarded came back to haunt her the way masks always seemed to do, convinced her girl that everything they had known together was a lie. And soon enough, her girl was gone, the walls went back up, and Karen had to teach herself how to live with all of that weight pressing down on her chest once again.

There was no such thing as truth; there was just illusion. And it only took losing the love of her life to figure that out.

It was crazy, the way time completely messed with your head. It didn’t seem like that long ago that Karen had wandered the city, craving change, and found it underneath flashing lights and pulsing music. It didn’t seem like that long ago that she was sharing her life with someone who actually wanted to share it. It didn’t seem like that long ago that she fell in love with someone who was worthy of her love. She remembered the moment they met, the moment they first kissed, the moment she finally got the courage to say “I love you” so vividly that those memories _had_ to be fresh. They just had to be. But every time Karen took a step back and looked at that time in her life, she was stunned to realize that three years had passed since the last time she had been truly happy. And she had no idea how to live with that fact.

Three years. It had been three years since she put the bricks of her wall back together. Three years without her girl’s phone number, her girl’s touch, her girl’s kiss. Three years without her girl’s voice wrapped around her like the softest blanket. Three years without feeling like they were the only two people in existence as they danced together in crowded clubs, drank together in crowded bars. Three years without the way they debated whose bedroom they would sleep in that night, without the way their dreams didn’t seem so far out of reach when they let them hit the air. Three years without her name dancing on Karen’s tongue. Three years of her name haunting Karen’s mind every day, making her want to reach out when she knew she couldn’t.

Three years since Grace Adler decided that Karen was a liar. Three years since Karen realized a little too late that she was.

Since then, Karen had tried piecing the life she had originally planned on living with Stan back together, the one she was headed towards before she told him she needed a break, before she admitted she wasn’t sure what she wanted but it definitely wasn’t this. And if she was being honest, she had been holding it together pretty well; she had learned the art of pretending to be happy a long time ago, and it was good to know that even after a year of not having to pretend, she could still keep up appearances with the best of them. And if it hadn’t been for Will Truman randomly showing his face in the bar she practically lived in since she rekindled the mediocrity with Stan, she would have been able to keep pretending. But Will, with the best of intentions, had taken it upon himself to fill her in on what she had missed over the last three years. Like how Grace had gone back to Danny. Like how Michael left and now, with Grace having moved back in with her boyfriend, the apartment seemed far too empty.

Like how Grace started her own design company and was slowly but surely getting it off the ground.

Karen had tried so hard to keep the emotions at bay, but as soon as she heard that, she had struggled to swallow her tears, thinking of all the times Grace mused about finally getting out of the company she had been working for, about finally being able to do things her way. She remembered all of the times they had been walking down the street, Grace looking at all the buildings that had space for rent, wondering how good of a fit her own hypothetical business would be in each of them. It was a pipe dream back then, nothing more. And she just couldn’t believe that the redhead actually did it.

It filled her to know that Grace had been able to make her dream come true. It devastated her to know that her own foolishness kept her from being there by Grace’s side every step of the way. But it made her want to see for herself all of the wonderful things Grace had accomplished without her. It made her want to know if there was some way to sneak back into Grace’s life, even if she couldn’t be the person she used to be to the redhead.

Karen sat with the knowledge Will had given her for a few weeks before she made her move. She knew she was likely setting herself up for a deeper heartache than she experienced the last time she saw Grace. She also knew that she didn’t care; she just needed some time to prepare herself. And now, as she slowed to a stop in front of the Lafayette Street building Will told her about and looked up to see the gilded cherub statue above the main entrance, taunting her like it knew who was inside and what she meant to Karen, she realized she still wasn’t prepared to go inside. But when would she ever be?

She was already here. She might as well push on.

She reached the door to Grace Adler Designs, let her touch brush across her ex-girlfriend’s name bold across the company logo _(their_ logo, the one she drew, the one she branded onto her love’s dream. She couldn’t believe Grace didn’t throw this gift away), halfway expecting it to sting her fingertips when she did it; that name carried a weight that comforted her and crushed her all at once, and she could feel it in every fiber of her being. And after a moment, she knocked softly, nervously.

“Come on in,” she heard Grace shout from inside, making her body instantly turn to jelly. This was probably a mistake. She probably never should have come here, never should have even thought surprising Grace like this was an option. But she knew that if she left before seeing the redhead, she would never stop wondering what would have happened if she stayed.

So she opened the door.

Karen felt the lump in her throat the second she stepped foot inside the office. Everything about this place was so overwhelmingly Grace, it nearly brought her to her knees. And then she took in the color scheme and realized that Grace had brought that same color into her life and her apartment way back when they were spending all of their time together but were still on the edge of admitting their love for each other. And it made every part of her hurt so much worse than it already did.

She had always thought that apartment would be temporary, just like the break from Stan that landed her there would probably be temporary; she had figured that the time apart would only illuminate the fact that it would be easier to be with him than to be alone, and she would eventually go back to his manse and live the life he had planned for them. So she had never made an effort to decorate a place she would surely be leaving soon. But Grace...Grace had been unable to believe that Karen hadn’t made this a home yet, and she had been determined to fix it. “Tell me what you like,” she had smiled, “and I’ll liven this space up a little bit.”

“Honey, this is your area of expertise, not mine,” Karen had said when she realized Grace wasn’t going to let go of this one. “Go nuts. Do whatever you want to the place.”

The redhead had furrowed her brow. “Kare, it’s _your_ home. It’s supposed to feel like it. I want to give you what you want. So…” She had leaned in a little closer and looked at Karen with the most gorgeously encouraging eyes. “What do you want?”

Karen couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her that. It had sounded so simple, so sweet coming from her lips, it was overwhelming. And that had been the moment she knew for sure that there was no going back; she was absolutely gone for Grace.

They had decided to start with the bedroom; whether they realized then how much time they would be spending together in there, the dark haired woman never knew, but the hope had always lingered. Karen had picked a lavender paint for the walls that made both of their eyes light up, imagining the way it would make everything a little brighter, a little lovelier than the drab shade of beige she had been living with. Grace had taken her by the hand in every store they went to as they weaved through lamps and duvets and furniture until they had found a combination that felt like Karen. They had turned the stereo on while they gave the bedroom a much-needed upgrade, singing and laughing and splattering paint on each other--by accident at first, before the accident turned into a game both of them were determined to win--until the walls and their clothes were covered, and they had fallen onto the mattress in a heap of tired victory. They had let the silence surround them before Grace had turned to face Karen, brushed her lips against the dark haired woman’s so tenderly, it had nearly made Karen cry from the absence when Grace pulled away.

And in that moment, looking into Grace’s eyes as the redhead studied her so intensely, Karen had been certain that she had never been happier in her life.

She wondered if Grace remembered the night they painted that room, the way her skin and her hair had become specked with lavender in the midst of the beautiful pastel mess they had made together. She wondered if Grace picked out the color for her office because of the memory, or if she realized a little too late just how much that color held. She wondered if Grace thought about her when she painted the accent wall of her office. She wondered if Grace thought about her as much as she thought about Grace; even after all these years, she had never been able to leave Karen’s mind, and Karen was certain she wouldn’t know what to do if Grace ever did.

She wondered if Grace had any regrets. Because Karen knew there were a few things she wished she would have done differently, things she wished she could have fixed before it was too late.

Although, if she was being honest with herself, “too late” was the moment she spotted Grace’s wildfire locks from across that crowded club and felt the intense desire to burn.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit behind today,” Grace said now, jolting Karen back into reality as she was juggling the pile of fabric samples in her arms on her way to the swatch room. “Let me get a few things together, and then we can get on with the interview. As you can see, I need an assistant who can start as soon as possible.”

She hadn’t looked to see who walked in; her back was turned to the door the whole time. She didn’t know. Karen could slip out now, and she would be none the wiser. Karen could slip out now and save herself the heartache she knew was coming. Karen could slip out now and try to forget everything, try to go on with her life. But she had been trying to get on with her life for three years, and nothing she tried ever worked. So she took a breath, and she found her voice.

“Gracie,” she murmured, unable to stop herself from using the nickname that used to spill so easily from her lips.

She watched as the redhead stopped in her tracks, slowly turning on her heel, her eyes growing wider the second her gaze fell on Karen. “Oh my god,” Grace whispered, losing her grip on the fabric in her arms, scrambling to keep it all off the ground.

Karen acted on instinct, rushing to Grace’s side without thinking, grabbing for the fabric that was close to falling off the edge of Grace’s grasp. “Here, honey, let me help you.”

“I’ve got it,” Grace said firmly, pulling the fabric from Karen’s hold as she threw the samples in her arms down on her desk. Karen couldn’t tell if her voice was colored with shock or anger; they always sounded so similar when they were held between Grace’s lips, and she hoped to god it was the former. Grace ran her hand through her hair and tried to collect herself, taking a few breaths before she spoke again. “I don’t believe it. I just...how did you know I was here?” she asked with a tinge of helplessness, a tinge of distance. It stung Karen to hear the distance. But then, what was she expecting after Grace had lived with the ghost of the worst version of her for the last three years?

What made her think any part of this was going to be easy?

“I…” Karen faltered, cursing herself for not having it together right now. “I ran into Will a few weeks ago. He told me what you’ve been up to. I wasn’t going to come by, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about _you,_ and I think...I think I just needed to see it for myself. I think I just needed to know that you were doing okay.”

The redhead’s features twisted with the knowledge that her best friend had been feeding her ex-girlfriend information behind her back. Karen didn’t blame her for the way she was trying to process it; she knew how close Grace was to Will, how bulletproof that bond was. It would make sense to feel a bit betrayed. But Karen had a bond of her own with him back in the day, not nearly as bulletproof as Grace’s, but solid enough to garner a little sympathy from him when he found her at the bar drowning her sorrows in an exorbitantly-priced martini, even after her relationship with his best friend had gone down in flames.

Grace tried to recover as smoothly as she could. “I’m fine,” she said, and maybe she meant it. But Karen found herself trying to figure out if Grace truly believed it.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Karen said softly, sincerely, trying to play it as safe as she possibly could. She took a look around the office, still in awe of her surroundings, and sighed. “Wasn’t this one of the buildings you wanted to be in? We passed by one day, and you looked up at the statue and told me how great it would be to have him greet you as you walked into work every day.” She could hear her voice start to shake under the weight of the memory. She tried as best as she could to steady herself. “And now look at you, Grace. This is yours. You did it. You finally got everything you wanted.”

“Not everything,” Grace murmured under her breath, like she didn’t want Karen to hear. But Karen heard her. Karen had always heard her. And maybe she was mistaken, but she could have sworn she heard the faintest creak of the door being open, buried inside that “Not everything.” Although, it had been a long time since she last heard the redhead’s voice; she wasn’t sure if she remembered what all the twists and turns of it meant the way she used to. Maybe she was only hearing what she wanted to hear. But before she could try to figure it out, she heard the voice she was trying to decipher pull her back in again.

“Look, Karen, what is this?” Weary. Grace sounded so weary. And Karen knew that was her fault. “I mean, really? We haven’t seen each other in three years, and now, what? You just thought you’d come over and take a little trip down memory lane? Do you _really_ want to open up that wound again?”

Karen had to admit, it was a fair point. She knew this had to seem so out of the blue to Grace, because she hadn’t been living with the debate to even do this the way Karen had for the last few weeks. But as much as she craved a rewind button, to go back and stop this, to pull herself out of the hole she dug, she just couldn’t stop herself. “Honey, I can go if you want. But I’m pretty sure Will wouldn’t have given me the address to this place if he didn’t think you wanted me to have it. I’m not going to pretend like I deserve a warm welcome here. But I’m also not the only one who screwed up.” She never liked to think about the end of their relationship, for obvious reasons. She took a lot of the blame for what happened, and she had learned to live with it. But it wasn’t as if Grace didn’t hurt her too, whether she tried to or not. They had both done things they shouldn’t be proud of. They never talked about it when they had the chance. And maybe the effort was futile, but Karen couldn’t help feeling like they had to try to talk about it now. “We made a mess of things. But don’t tell me you never think about it. Unless Will completely lied to me, I know you do. I do, too.”

“God, of course he’d butt in, I could kill him,” the redhead muttered, making Karen stifle the involuntary smile starting to play across her face, the breathless laugh starting to spill from her lips. She saw the way Grace started to smile too, like this was one of those times in their glory days when Will would make his presence known just when they thought they had finally been given a moment alone together. This wasn’t a joke; none of this was funny. But to hear just the slightest hint of Grace’s attitude come through in that moment put her at ease when she probably shouldn’t be. She missed the way Grace’s fierceness would come through when you least expected it. And even in the midst of the heavy uncertainty surrounding them, it warmed her to know that that fierceness still did come through from time to time.

It was one of the things she loved most about her.

Karen studied the woman standing in front of her for a moment, trying to figure out how to keep that softened air that started to fill the place before she let out a sigh. “Grace, I’m sorry that I sprung all of this on you. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. But you still mean a lot to me, and I’m here now...don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to finally get some closure?”

There it was. That seemed to get to her, the promise of all of this no longer hanging over their heads, the idea of ending up in a better place than where they last left off, even if they never saw each other again afterwards. If Karen didn’t know any better, she could swear Grace looked relieved. “Maybe you’re right,” the redhead conceded. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but the way I’ve been going about this the last few years really hasn’t been working.” She paused for a minute, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to say what was clearly on her mind before going ahead with it anyway. “And you still mean a lot to me too, you know. In spite of everything.”

Karen thought she misheard at first. She thought her mind started playing tricks. Or maybe Grace meant to say something different, but it came out as that. But Grace’s voice was clear. And she made no move to correct herself. And Karen knew that she was so focused on the redhead’s words that there could be no mistaking them. Grace said it. By all accounts, she meant it.

Karen didn’t want to get her hopes up. But she’d be lying if she said this didn’t make her a little more optimistic now than when she first knocked on the door.

“So…” Grace started after a moment. “Where do we even start?”

It was a valid question, but in no way a simple one. Karen could point to any number of things from their past as an entry point, dissect it and move on to the next, save themselves some time by not poring over every little thing. Because back then, when it was good, it was _good._ It was perfect. It felt like truth. It felt like love. They only really needed to look to the end, because it only started to fall apart towards the end; that’s what Karen had always told herself, even if it wasn’t necessarily the truth. But even as she took a breath to try to answer, to try to give herself another moment to find an alternative, she knew they would have to go all the way back to the beginning. She knew that they wouldn’t be able to resolve anything if they didn’t lay everything out. It had to be done.

And as soon as she gave into that fact, everything came flooding back.


	2. Don't You Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPeao3Jiaow)

_**“There’s no quenching the thirst, there’s no relief** _   
_**For the hungry at heart** _   
_**And as far as you’re concerned, I’m just a thief** _   
_**Entertaining in the dark** _   
_**But it’s you that holds the cards** _   
_**Now that the joker is wild** _   
_**Don’t you need? Don’t you want?** _   
_**Can’t you taste it when you’re alone?** _   
_**Don’t you cry? Don’t you feel?** _   
_**Sometimes I wonder if you are real”** _

_June 1994_

The dreams started the night Stan slid that obnoxiously huge diamond onto her finger. They were infrequent enough at first to ignore them. But soon, they were making it impossible to sleep, and Karen knew something had to give. When she fell asleep, she would see a brilliant orange glow raging around her, not realizing what it was coming from. But by the time she figured it out, the flames had already surrounded her, some growing to insane heights, sealing her in. And then she would see him on the other side of the fire--the one she was supposed to love, the one who supposedly loved her--and she would start screaming for help, only to discover that the smoke had stolen her voice. But he saw her there...Stan always saw her there. Some nights, he would walk away from the fire so he wouldn’t have to see the damage it would inevitably cause; some nights, he would stand there, completely still, completely silent, watching her, waiting for her to burn. She always woke up before the fire could touch her skin, she was always breathless and shaking as she was thrown back into reality. And he was always in a deep sleep next to her, completely oblivious to the subconscious hell she had endured.

Karen wasn’t a big believer in signs; she had trusted enough false ones in her day to give up on them entirely. But this one felt too important to shrug off. And she knew she had to make a few changes.

She had said yes to Stan when he proposed because it was easy, because she was used to him, because they had figured out how to live together and have been doing it fairly well for a couple years now, so really, how much are a piece of paper and a name change going to alter things? But once the dreams started creeping into her life, she started taking a few steps back to actually survey where she was and how she got there. And when she did, she could not for the life of her recognize herself. Because she was no longer the person she was when she met Stan; she wasn’t even the person he allegedly fell in love with way back when. And sure, some of that was unavoidable; no one’s the exact same person they were ten years ago. But the foundation is still there. It’s just that Karen’s foundation had been cracking under the weight of designer clothes and high society and Park Avenue expectations (well...Stanley’s expectations, but the two had become synonymous to her by now). And before the dreams started, she never thought to do anything more than simply live with the cracks.

But now, everything she once knew about herself was slipping through them.

When they met, Stan couldn’t stop telling her how much he loved the fact that she was different. That was what he always called her, smiling as he said it like she should be wearing it as a badge of honor every time he brought attention to her. And it was fine at first whenever he doted on the way she dressed more casually than the others in his circle like he had never seen a piece of denim before, the way she was a little more carefree and outgoing than the other girlfriends and wives like it was come kind of rebellion instead of just who she was, the way she held on to her quirks in a sea of conformity like a life preserver. He kept calling her the spark he so desperately needed, the radiant light finally destroying the darkness he lived in after his last marriage fell apart. And she thought it felt so good to be with someone who saw her for who she was, who embraced all of those things the moment he first embraced her.

She couldn’t tell you exactly when things changed, but at some point, she could hear the way his tone started to shift, the way it started to sound less like acceptance and more like judgment. Like the novelty had finally worn off. Like she needed to take a hint. Like she should know better by now. She would crack her usual jokes around his friends, go out with him in something that didn’t meet his definition of dressed up, and every time she did, there was something in his eyes that looked like embarrassment; he never said it out loud, but he never needed to. So she started taking the hints; she just wanted him to stop looking at her like that, like she was consistently in the wrong for no real reason. Besides, she could make one or two compromises and still keep herself intact. The problem was, she kept that mentality through making those one or two compromises about three or four times. And before she knew it, she had lost track of every one of the whims she accommodated. Before she knew it, her closet was filled with labels she never would have dreamed of before she met him, she had a seemingly endless staff at her feet waiting to do everything for her, and she had no idea what to do with herself besides ask for another martini and watch time pass her by.

Before she knew it, Stan had given her everything, more than she had ever thought to dream of. But it was nothing she actually wanted. Because none of it felt real.

Stan didn’t feel real.

Over the years, he had slowly but steadily molded her into the partner he expected her to be. But Karen let him do it. Karen didn’t even realize until it was nearly too late that the small concessions she had been making over the years had snowballed into something virtually insurmountable. And that made the whole thing even worse.

She needed to do something. And she needed to do it now.

Two weeks after the dreams had become a nightly occurrence, Karen finally said something to him. First thing in the morning, sitting across from each other at the dining table. Stan never shifted his gaze from the newspaper in his hand, like he was convinced Karen was saying these things just to say them, like it was all going to go away if he didn’t look her in the eye. She told him that she needed to take a step back from everything, she needed to reevaluate what she wanted because this, right now, didn’t feel right and it hadn’t felt right in a long time. She told him that maybe some space from each other would do the trick, that maybe she should find a small place for a little while so she could come at this with as clear of a head as possible. She told him that neither of them deserved to be in a marriage where one of them isn’t 100% in it, and before they walk down the aisle, they need to figure out if they even should. And he didn’t say a word. Maybe he didn’t think she was serious. Maybe he didn’t care if she was. But it wasn’t until he came home from work later that day and found her poring over apartment listings in the paper that he realized she was going through with this whether he liked it or not.

He sighed and tried to slide the paper out from under her eye. “If you’re really going to do this,” he said grudgingly, “at least let me help you. You won’t get very far by yourself.”

She wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that she was fine on her own. But she quickly realized that wasn’t true. She hadn’t worked an honest to god job since she moved into Stanley’s manse. She didn’t have any money to her name that wasn’t actually his. There was no way she was going to be able to strike out on her own without a little boost. So she relented, watched him make a couple of calls until he found a building owned by Walker Property Management that had an empty apartment, stressed the fact that she didn’t want something needlessly excessive while he made the arrangements. He told her he would set her up with enough money to live comfortably on her own while she figured things out. The way he said it, it sounded like he was expecting her to come back in a few weeks, like this was just some odd whim she had, and once she realized how good she had it with him, they could pretend like it never happened (who cares if he loses some money in the process? It’s not like any amount he could have donated to this would cause any sort of a dent in his world). He didn’t think this was anything to worry about. Just blame it on the quirks she still hadn’t gotten over.

She wondered what he’d do if she just never came back.

She wondered if he’d even care.

She wondered how long it would take him to move on to the next girl.

She wondered why she was spending so much time wondering about him, when she was supposed to be taking care of herself. She wondered if she even _could_ take care of herself anymore. She didn’t have a clue.

But she knew she was about to find out.

To his credit, Stan found her a decent one-bedroom in one of the buildings his company managed in Chelsea, said it was ready for her to move in whenever she was ready to. Even though she hated the fact that she would still technically be living under his thumb, at least this was a start; at least she wouldn’t be here. And once she packed up her things (her real things, the clothes and the books and the trinkets that were slowly pushed further and further into the depths of her closet to make room for the Chanel and the Prada and the Gucci) and ordered the bare minimum in furniture (she didn’t care what it looked like or what the price tag was, as long as she had somewhere to sit and sleep), she settled into a new space fifty blocks and an entire world away from Stanley Walker and his circle.

Stan insisted on seeing her off, making sure everything she packed got to her new apartment, and she figured she could tolerate it if she kept reminding herself that he would be leaving when the movers did. But he wasn’t making it easy. “This is a mistake,” he said as he watched the movers bring the last of Karen’s belongings into the apartment. “You know that.”

Karen couldn’t even be surprised by him, the way he spoke like his opinion was truth. No one ever challenged him, no one ever spoke up. He had this odd way of lulling you into thinking his version of the world was the only version. It was the whole reason she was in this mess in the first place. “All I know is that I need to do something. How do you not feel this, Stan?” she asked, too tired to be angry. “How can you be satisfied with the way things are right now? How do you not realize that something’s wrong?”

“Nothing was wrong until you decided it was.”

It was incredible, the way his voice carried absolutely no emotion. Incredible, the way he was so sure of everything he said. She would be upset about it if it didn’t just confirm to her without a doubt that she was doing the right thing. “No. It’s not that nothing was wrong. I just finally decided to speak up about what was.”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t work out whatever this is at home. What am I going to tell people?”

The image. It was always about the image. She figured that was his main issue, trying to explain to everyone who asked what happened to the loving fiancée who was usually on his arm. Trying to go on as if everything’s okay when everything is clearly not. “You don’t have to tell them anything,” she said, although she knew it wasn’t true, at least not in his mind. “We’re not completely broken up.” _Yet._ She left off the “yet” that was on the tip of her tongue. Part of her wondered if that was a hint, if she had already made up her mind and was simply putting up a front until enough time had passed where this didn’t look like some knee-jerk decision, where it looked like she had given it a lot of thought. She _had_ given it a lot of thought. But she knew he wouldn’t see it that way yet. “Tell them I’m off visiting family or something.” That was a laugh; she lost track of her mother and her sister a long time ago, and she couldn’t remember the last time she saw any of her extended family. But whoever was going to ask Stan where she was didn’t need to know that. “Whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“I want you to know that I’ll still be there for you, whenever you decide to end this experiment.”

Good lord. That was just like him. Unable to accept any possibility that they might not make it out of this together. Like he was just going along with it without believing in why she needed to do it, without believing her when she said she needed to do it. He would stick it out while the weeks turned into months. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if a year had gone by and he was still telling people that all was well, that this was just an extended engagement period while they plan the ceremony of a lifetime. There was no use in arguing with him about it. She was already here. She had already gotten the ball rolling. He would be leaving soon. Just let it slide and see him out.

“Sure, honey,” she sighed. “Whatever you say.”

She watched Stan take one last look at the apartment, keeping whatever judgments he surely had to himself, pacing slowly around the living area until it finally occurred to him that he might be overstaying his welcome. His eyes landed on his fiancée’s folded arms and expressionless expression and he sighed. “Well, then…” he started, finally taking one step and then another towards the front door. “I guess you can take it from here.”

Part of her wanted to thank him, in spite of everything. Sure, he was being his usual smug self about this. But he was going along with it; he was helping her do this. She wouldn’t have this place if he didn’t make the call, wouldn’t have the cushy bank account to help her get by while she reevaluated herself if he didn’t offer to set it up. He wouldn’t have done all of this if he didn’t really care, if he didn’t really want the best for her, whatever that ended up being. Right? If she truly did want this to work out in their favor, shouldn’t she be giving him the benefit of the doubt, trying to see the good in him?

She could feel the words forming in her throat when Stan turned around and offered his goodbye. “I’ll see you soon.” Like she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own. Like she would stick it out for a couple weeks at most to save the slightest bit of face before admitting her mistake. Like he already knew their future and was simply waiting for it to come to pass.

Karen refused to let him see that he had gotten to her, turning her back on him as he walked out the door.

She stayed still in the silence for a few moments, just to make sure he wasn’t coming back. And when she determined it was safe to move, she started retracing his steps around the living room, studying every inch of the apartment she could, trying to process the fact that this was her home now. This wouldn’t be so bad. A definite downgrade in space, but she didn’t mind it; she hated living in a place that made it too easy to lose herself in the expanse. Once she started unpacking, it would start to come together. Maybe she could go out tomorrow, find a few things that would make this place her own. Maybe she could turn it into a place she never wanted to leave. Maybe it would truly become home. Maybe she would finally get back to the person she was. Maybe she would finally get back to the life she once saw for herself. Maybe she would finally realize that Stan didn’t fit in it. Maybe she would give in to that small but insistent part of her that didn’t _want_ Stan to fit into it.

Then again, maybe he was right; he seemed so damn sure of himself that it started to play with Karen’s mind, started to make her question herself. Maybe she had gotten so used to the life he had shown her over the years that nothing else would fit anymore. Maybe this would only be temporary, the kind of temporary where if you blink, you don’t even realize anything had changed. Maybe she would do exactly what he thought she was going to do. Maybe it would be better than nothing, and maybe she should just admit that already.

Maybe she should stop focusing on the maybes so she can start focusing on the definites.

Like how she definitely needed to make a change, and she definitely did it.

Like how she definitely had the freshest start she could get under the circumstances.

Like how she definitely needed to make it count.

When she made her way to the kitchen, she slid her engagement ring off of her finger and into a random drawer she didn’t think she was ever going to use. She leaned against the marble of the countertop. And she took a fortifying breath as her mind started rolling out all of the things she needed to hear: she was going to be okay on her own, this was what she wanted, she was going to take this and make it into something brilliant. And she _was_ going to take this and make it into something brilliant. She was going to make it into something she wouldn’t even think to dream of. She was going to surprise Stan. She was going to surprise herself. She was going to. She was.

Because she had to.

* * *

  
She hated the look he always wore--the one that was full of judgment, the one that always happened in the aftermath of his scoff and his disdainful “Of course you are” like he thought she couldn’t fight her own battles--whenever she told him she needed a little space and was staying at Will’s. It was almost like he had this terrible image of her in his mind and got some sort of sick satisfaction from it every time it seemed like she was proving him right. And she hated feeling like she was proving him right. But once she told herself that this was the last time she’d see that face (it had to be, it was the final straw, she was sure of it this time), it made the thought of telling Danny she was leaving a little easier to swallow.

She just couldn’t believe that someone who never truly grasped the concept of taking responsibility for your actions would dare take her to task for leaning on her best friend for help.

When they first met, Danny seemed fun, and Grace thought she could use a little more fun in her life. There was an odd sort of charm to him that thrilled her, and for a while, she thought that thrill could sustain her. He acted on impulse when she never did, and he always brought her along for the ride. He got her to jump into the deep when she usually just dipped her toes in the shallow end. He didn’t think about consequences, and she thought it must be so freeing to live like that, to be able to go for anything you wanted just because you wanted it, without anything holding you back. She wished she could feel that liberated. She wished she could turn off the part of her brain that overanalyzed every little thing, that kept her from taking the chances she wanted to take. And whenever she was with Danny, she felt like it was possible. She felt like she could step outside of her comfort zone and have it count for something. She felt like it was safe, as long as he was by her side.

So when they decided that Grace would move into Danny’s apartment after only a few months, it didn’t seem like such a big deal, just another one of those impulsive, charming things to add to the list. And even though Will tried to get her to think about what she was doing, Grace was too blinded by the thrill to pay much attention to the consequences. The thrill felt good. And if she lived with Danny, it meant that she would never have to go without it.

She just wished she would have known the thrill would all but disappear the second she stepped through the threshold.

The apartment itself was great; compared to the cramped studio she had been trying and failing to fit her life into, this place was the mansion it should be for a guy on the fast track to becoming vice president of his investment firm. She could get lost so easily in the gorgeous view of the city from his balcony. She could turn the second bedroom into her own private space, something that was wholly hers even though she swore she wanted to share everything with him. She could take an elevator to her front door instead of having to tackle the five flights of stairs to her crummy little walk-up like she had been. It would have been a paradise...if it wasn’t for the fact that Danny had the place decorated like he was still a college Freshman. And the fact that he refused to compromise and let Grace try to make it look a little less like a frat house and a little more like a couple lived there. And the fact that he refused to compromise about anything at all.

And the fact that he either couldn’t see how much it was hurting her, or chose to ignore it.

Once Grace saw that Danny had no intention of giving up any aspect of the life he had known before he met her, everything else she initially loved about him started to sour, that odd charm sailing far past its sell-by date. The impulsiveness that once thrilled her now exhausted her. The fact that he didn’t think about consequences didn’t seem so liberating now; it just made him seem overwhelmingly immature. It was incredible, really. She met him long after he graduated from college but she felt like she knew so intimately the person he was when he first enrolled, namely because he seemed so convinced that he could still pull off the disgusting, mind-blowingly dumb decisions that made up the best years of his life. She was tired of balancing the fancy business dinners with the after hours parties she was dragged to that too closely resembled the keggers she could honestly say she outgrew by her Sophomore year. She was tired of his stories of drunken misadventures and zero repercussions. She was tired of feeling like a mom in this relationship when he was older than she was. She was tired of the fact that he wasn’t tired of all of this. She was just tired. And the worst part of it all was that Danny seemed so fine with being the overgrown frat boy Will kept not-so-subtly hinting he was. He seemed so fine with their relationship when it was anything but. He seemed so fine with the flames that were closing in on them, burning all of their bridges, suffocating them while they turned everything to ash. He seemed so fine with not doing a thing to fix it, because he didn’t seem to see anything that was broken.

Funny how you can be reading the exact same page and get two completely different interpretations out of it.

She wanted to scream, ask him how the hell he could live like this and be happy. This wasn’t what she envisioned for herself. Danny wasn’t the person she envisioned for herself. There was no way he was going to grow with her now if he was still clinging to the person he was when he was 18. And there was no way he was going to listen to anyone who tried to tell him so. She was hungry for more than he wanted, more than he could possibly give.

But she wasn’t going to say anything to him. Not yet, anyway.

Grace was sitting at a corner table of the coffee shop down the street from the apartment (she still couldn’t quite call it hers after all these months), running her finger around the rim of her mug, waiting for Will to rush in and ask what could possibly have warranted the 911 message she left on his answering machine. But considering she lost count of the 911 messages she’s left on his answering machine, she knew he wouldn’t rush in and he wouldn’t ask what warranted it, because of course he knew what warranted it. Which is why she wasn’t surprised when she looked up from her latte to find him taking his good old time making sure his coffee was just the way he liked it before weaving through the customers waiting for their drinks to get to her. But it made her impatient to get these feelings out of her, made the words tumble out of her mouth without being able to stop them.

“Would it be bad if I quit?” she murmured before he even had a chance to say hello.

She wasn’t expecting the faint look of surprise in his eyes. “Has the office really gotten that bad?” he asked as he sat down.

Grace furrowed her brow until she realized that she had been so focused on Danny, she completely forgot she had also been complaining about her job as of late (god, how many pieces of her life could crumble at the same time?). Sure, she felt stuck in a design firm that didn’t seem to want to let her grow creatively, and sure, she knew that eventually she would have to branch out on her own if she wanted to be happy. But at least she was doing something that she loved, at least she was actually doing what she went to school for, and how many people really get to say that? She shook her head and tried to set Will straight. “No, I didn’t mean work.” _Yet._ She left off the “yet” that was on the tip of her tongue. “I meant Danny.”

“Gracie, you know if you need a night away…” he started, firing up the usual offer he gave whenever she asked him to meet her at this coffee shop. She knew he assumed it was going to go the way this always went; she would say that she’s had enough, she would entertain the idea of leaving for good as Will brought her back to his place for the night, and by sunrise she would convince herself that there was a slight chance she could make it work if she just put a little more effort into it (never mind the fact that lately, she was the only one putting the effort into it). But it felt different this time.

“I don’t think one night is going to cut it anymore.” She took a sip of her latte before she continued, giving herself a second to find the right words. “It’s like all of the small things I thought I could put up with kept piling up when I wasn’t looking. But now the pile is so high, I can’t see the things that drew me to him in the first place. And it’s not like he understands that anything’s wrong, even if I try to tell him.”

“So what’s been holding you back from ending it?”

Grace shifted her gaze to her mug. “I don’t know if I want to tell you,” she murmured, her face starting to feel hot with embarrassment.

“Come on, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“No.” She shook her head, knowing what he wanted to hear was going to sound stupid the second it spilled from her lips.

“Grace…”

“Will…”

_“Grace...”_ he emphasized, and she knew she wasn’t going to win this one.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, it’s New York City, okay? I could barely afford the crappy studio I was living in before. When am I ever going to be able to live in an apartment like his again?”

The way Will’s eyes grew wider as he realized she wasn’t joking made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all. “Really? _That’s_ the reason? That’s insane. That’s not a reason.” He shook his head and reached across the table to take Grace’s hand. “Sweetie, stop fighting it, you know you can’t stay there. Don’t be the woman who’s only with someone because they have a nice apartment. He doesn’t even know how to keep that nice apartment nice. Besides, your room is already made up for you, for however long you need it.”

“God, you shouldn’t even be calling it _my_ room, it’s supposed to be a guest room!” Grace sighed as she slid her hand over her face. “You know what? Maybe he’s right. Maybe I _do_ lean on you too much.”

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t have to if he actually cared for you the way he says he does.”

Grace opened her mouth to try to defend Danny before she realized she couldn’t. Because Will was absolutely right. Blunt, but right. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. All the times she tried to say something to Danny, all the times she tried to explain what wasn’t working, all the time she spent trying to make him move when he wouldn’t budge. If Danny truly cared about her, wouldn’t he at least try to hear her out? Wouldn’t he at least try to meet her halfway? And if he wasn’t willing to try, what was she even doing there?

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to live with Will for a little while. Just until she figured things out. Just until she could find a place of her own, no matter how much of a downgrade that place might be. But she knew how big of an ask it was to crash land into someone else’s life for an undetermined amount of time. Especially when that someone was busy building a life with _his_ someone. “I don’t want to be a bother to you and Michael,” she finally managed, slowly giving in.

“Michael will be fine with it. He loves you. I love you. You should be with family right now.”

She felt the way Will squeezed her hand and couldn’t help but give the smallest smile. “I need time to tell him I’m leaving,” she said, nearly a whisper.

“I can come by tomorrow with boxes,” he offered. “It shouldn’t take long to get your things out of there.”

Grace nodded. And she felt her mind already turning, trying to figure out how to break it to Danny.

She told him that night after he got home from work, spouted off some generic bit about how it’s not working between them and hasn’t been for a while. He gave her the look and the judgment he always did when he realized she was going over to Will’s. She told him they were done, that she couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t look like he believed her. And when she got tired of trying to make him see things for what they were, she told him that Will would be coming over tomorrow to help her pack, and she went to bed.

The next day, Will came over like he said he would, his arms filled with boxes and packing tape. He tried to bring some order to what got thrown into what box even though Grace was content to just shove in whatever fit if it meant getting this over with faster. Danny was home for the whole production, watching them work. He didn’t offer help, and if Grace was being completely honest, she didn’t want it. She wasn’t sure if watching her pack up every last one of her belongings tipped him off to the fact that they were truly over; he acted like it didn’t, like this was just another one of those sleepovers at Will’s even after she insisted it wasn’t. But she didn’t care enough to wait for him to catch up.

He’d figure it out eventually.

After an evening of stuffing boxes into rental cars headed for the Upper West Side, Grace unceremoniously dropped the last of her bags onto the guest bed _(her_ bed, this is _her_ bed now, in _her_ room) and sighed as Will wrapped his arms around her. “Welcome home,” he said softly, his voice so full of compassion it made her want to cry. “It’s late; I’ll let you get some rest. We can unpack the rest of your stuff in the morning.” She nodded her response before he kissed her cheek and closed the door behind him.

It was crazy how quickly the silence fell around her when he left. It trapped her in her place, kept her from moving even one step in any direction. It made it glaringly obvious that she had no clue what to do next. Every other time she ran to Will for sanctuary, she eventually ran back to Danny; she didn’t know how to break that cycle. And it paralyzed her.

But come on, Grace. You finally did it. You packed your things. You moved out. You left him. You’re free now. Shouldn’t that make you feel...well... _free?_

Maybe it should. But right now, it didn’t.

Grace tried to snap herself out of it, changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, hoping she could just slide into sleep. But after she got sick of tossing and turning, of closing her eyes only to have the jumble of thoughts in her head pry them back open again, she got up and tiptoed past the cracked door of Will and Michael’s bedroom to look for a distraction. She got to the kitchen, meaning only to pour herself a glass of water, but instead grabbing some leftover cake she was pretty sure they weren’t going to miss anyway. As she pulled a fork from the drawer and dug in, she took a look around, taking in the way her best friend’s warmth and generosity surrounded her. And when she took it all in, it didn’t seem so bad. There was a decent view of the Hudson River from the balcony. She could turn the second bedroom into her own private space. There was an elevator. She had all of the things that were keeping her from taking that final leap away from Danny. And the kicker of it was, she could have all of that without having to live with a manchild in a business suit. She could have all of that while living with someone who made her feel loved. She could have all of that and feel like she was home. Because she guessed she was.

She would have never thought to call Will’s apartment home before. A place to rest her head for a little while, maybe, but never to the point where she never left. Never to the point where she imposed herself on his life with Michael. But right now, it didn’t seem so crazy that 9C was home.

In fact, she kind of liked the way it sounded in her head.

A fresh start, a new chapter. This was what she wanted. And now that she had it, what lay ahead seemed incredibly daunting. But at least she wouldn’t be alone. At least if she fell flat on her face, there would be someone to pick her up. At least she was somewhere she felt safe. At least she thought she would be okay. Because she _would_ be okay. She would be.

Maybe.


	3. I Won't Be Alone Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6y4jksX1Gk)

_**“Gonna put my boots on, pull back my hair** _   
_**There’s a heartbreak in the night, but I don’t care** _   
_**Got to find me an angel, one that’s just a little mean** _   
_**In cheap sunglasses and low-rise jeans”** _

_ July 1994 _

When she pictured her first foray into the world as a newly single woman, Grace saw something calm to ease herself into her new chapter. Maybe some dive in the Village where she wouldn’t have to try too hard. Maybe something a little nicer, a wine bar where she could meet someone who possessed the qualities she thought Danny had. Someplace where the din of the crowd couldn’t wash out your more intimate moments. What she didn’t picture was an overcrowded, overheated gay club with pulsing music that never ended and flashing neon lights that never dimmed and a sea of guys who were in no way interested in the redhead clinging to her two best friends like they were life preservers.

But you can’t always get what you want.

Grace tried like hell to get out of going, which was admittedly a first; usually, the second Will mentioned a bar opening up, she was right in step with him, ready to dance and drink and (before Michael came along) wingwoman him like there was no tomorrow. But where Grace saw an opportunity to relax with the apartment to herself since Michael was working late, Will saw an opportunity for Grace to fall deeper into a post-Danny depression she honestly never fell into in the first place. But of course, you couldn’t tell Will that. And when Jack barged through the door of 9C to drag Will off to the new club downtown, Will instantly turned to face her and asked if she was ready to go like she had any choice in the matter.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, shift it back,” Jack exclaimed, miming the gear shift to a car Grace knew for a fact he never drove (he grew up on 125th Street, for god’s sake, who needs a car in Manhattan?). “No one said anything about bringing our hags along.”

Grace stood there, wide eyed and stunned for a moment before she could respond. “Nice to see you too, Jack.” She sighed, knowing that as crude as it was, this was probably the only window she was going to get if she wanted to bow out of third wheeling this boys night. “Look, you really don’t need me there, so why don’t you just go ahead without me, and you can tell me all about it when you get home?” She could hear the way her voice lifted with the possibility of actually getting way with this, of seeing them off and landing in front of the TV with the pint of Ben & Jerry’s she’ll likely eat all of rather than make the effort to get up from her seat and put it back in the freezer. After all, she didn’t want to go, and clearly Jack didn’t want her to go. Two out of three. Majority rules. That should be the end of it.

“What are you talking about? Of course I need you there,” Will asserted, and it took all Grace had not to let out the sounds of frustrated defeat she had in her throat. “I’m going to need  _ someone _ to keep me company while this one is out on the dance floor bobbing for boyfriends.” He nodded his head towards an impatiently fidgeting Jack before taking hold of Grace’s hand and gently leading her towards the front door. “Come on,” he drew out. “I’ll buy your drinks.”

Well. If she could get a good buzz going on his dime, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Fine,” she groaned, taking in the victory written across Will’s face as she dropped his hand and made her way towards the bathroom. “Just let me freshen up really quick.”

“Hurry up!” Jack shouted when she closed the door behind her. “I wanna get there before all the cute ones are taken!”

As she heard Will’s muffled voice scolding Jack about how they were going to a club and not a pet store, Grace braced herself against the sink and looked up at her reflection in the mirror, trying to psyche herself up for the night ahead. She took a few breaths before she grabbed a brush, put her hair up--Manhattan in the middle of July was already hot enough; she could only imagine how sweaty and gross it was going to get once they made it inside this place--and checked her makeup in the mirror, fully aware of the slim chance that she’d run into anyone she needed to impress. And she tried to put on a smile that hid the disappointment she felt over her thwarted alone time.

It was one night. She could give them one night. Have a couple of drinks with Will, make a game out of betting on how many numbers Jack would end the night with. Show him that she was making an effort. It would be okay. That pint of chocolate chip cookie dough would still be there when she got back.

And maybe, if she was stealthy enough, she could split and make it back home to that pint before last call.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” she huffed as she made her way back to the living room, Jack already out the door and pressing the elevator call button before she could finish her sentence.

Will threw his arm around her and smiled. “That’s the spirit,” he joked, leading her out of the apartment.

When they got to the club, Grace could feel Will slowly start to get into the music on one side of her while on the other, she could see Jack light up with all the possibilities the night held for him. And she just didn’t get what they saw in this place. She honestly couldn’t tell what made this one different from all of the others she danced and drank in with Will, save for the energetic mob of bodies on the dance floor that would surely dwindle once the newness of the place wore off. She knew that if it wasn’t going to be the impending onslaught of vodka sodas she’d put on Will’s tab making her head pound tonight, it would be the DJ who threw on the endless remix of Madonna commanding her to get into the groove and making sure it stayed lodged in her head long after she had gone home. It was hot. It was loud. It made her start scouting out her exit plan as she unknowingly pulled the guys in closer to her like they were her shield (although it wasn’t exactly clear what they were shielding her from). Which was apparently the wrong move on her part.

“Grace!” Jack scoffed as he broke free from the hold she didn’t realize she had on him. “Don’t jock block me tonight!” He sounded so seriously offended that Grace couldn’t help but laugh. But in the next moment, he dove into the closest wave of men on the dance floor, giving himself to the music and the vibe and the promise of breaking a heart or two while Will and Grace watched him get swallowed up by the crowd.

“Yeah...we’re not going to see him again,” Will said with a wink in his voice as he gave her a gentle nudge. “Come on, let’s try to find a place at the bar.”

After what felt like an eternity making their way through the crowd, they miraculously found a couple of empty seats. Soon enough, Grace was squeezing her lime wedge into her vodka soda and hoping that when she took a sip, it would start to drown her annoyance. When she finally felt the booze start to settle in her body, she turned to face Will and studied him for a moment before attempting to talk over the music. “Why did you come out here tonight, anyway? You don’t need to do the bar scene anymore, you’ve got a guy.”

“I  _ know _ I’ve got a guy, but that doesn’t mean I have to close myself off, right? Come on, I still know my way around the clubs. I’m still with it.”

Grace cracked a smile and slid her hand along his back. “Sweetie...people who really  _ are _ ‘with it,’” she air quoted with her free hand, “never actually tell people they’re with it.” She felt the way his shoulders started to slump against her touch and let out a small, kindhearted laugh. “So, what was it? Did Jack guilt you into coming, and you figured you could bring me down with you?”

Will shifted his gaze to his drink. “Kind of,” he muttered and sighed. “Gracie, it’s been two weeks since you moved in. I just thought it would help to get you out of the apartment for a few hours, start living it up a little bit. Do something other than sit around in my NYU sweatshirt while your ice cream melts.”

God, she loved how he always looked out for her. Even if he could be a little misguided sometimes. “I get that, I do. It’s just...doesn’t it kind of defeat the purpose to bring me to a gay bar? I mean, it’s not like I can put myself out there again in a place like this.”

“Wait, you...you  _ want _ to get out there again?” Will asked, unable to contain the surprise in his voice. “I was just trying to give you a distraction tonight. But you’re ready? Already? You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No! Look, am I sad that things didn’t work out with Danny like I thought they would? Sure. But it’s not like it turned to crap out of the blue. This was a long time coming. And if I’m being honest, I started getting over Danny before I even left.” She focused her gaze on her drink, swirling her straw around her glass and getting lost in the motion for a moment before she mustered up the courage to ask, “Why? What’s with the voice? Do  _ you _ think it’s too soon?”

“Grace, I just want you to be happy.” He still sounded like he was trying to figure out how much of her spiel was for show. But she was mentally giving him points for at least trying to go along with this. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure how much of it really was just for show. “Who am I to tell you when you should start dating again? You know what you want better than anyone. So if you’re ready, you’re ready.” He waited until he had Grace’s gaze before he let a smirk play across his face. “And I’ll be here waiting to give you my opinion on whoever catches your eye.”

She shook her head and smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said as she kissed his cheek.

“So, what now?” Will asked as she rested her head on his shoulder. “One more drink before we go home? Save your real first journey out into the world for another night?”

Grace nodded as she shifted her straw to the side and downed the rest of her drink before trying to signal the bartender. “Should we tell Jack we’re cutting out early?” she asked.

“If you can even  _ find _ Jack in this mess,” Will said before he leaned in to give the bartender their drink order.

She turned around in her seat to face the crowd on the dance floor, studying the movement, honestly searching for Jack’s face for a few seconds before quickly realizing there was no point. Besides, it wasn’t like he wanted to be found by them anyway, so why bother? Just drink your drink in peace and plan your exit, Grace. Go home. Get out of these clothes that keep sticking to your skin because of the heat. Dive into the ice cream that has been calling your name ever since Will dragged you out of the apartment. Maybe grab a spoon for him, because after all, he  _ did _ eventually realize this wasn’t working for you, and you should probably show your appreciation for that. If only you could find a way out of this goddamn place. If only…

Grace froze as her eyes locked on a woman who had wandered in, watching her as she started to realize where she was. Any other time, Grace would have been able to keep herself entertained by the way the woman’s features twisted with the decision to either leave now and cut her losses or stick around and see where the night takes her. Any other time, Grace would have probably gotten Will in on it too, would have put their heads together to come up with this woman’s backstory, tried to one up each other with ridiculous stories of what led her here. But now, in this moment, there was something about this woman that Grace wanted to keep for herself. There was something about this woman that instantly captivated her. Maybe it was because she was pretty much the only other woman in the place right now. Maybe it was the way she wore her sunglasses on her head like she might still need them in a badly-lit club at 10:30 at night. Maybe it was the way the reds and the blues and the greens of the disco lights reflected a rainbow off of her dark hair, the way that rainbow danced in time with the music, traveling a path down her body in those moments when the crowd parted just enough to see, a path that Grace’s eyes started to follow before she realized what she was doing. Maybe it was the way she looked impossibly put together in her jeans and t-shirt, like she was wearing an ensemble that cost more than everything in Grace’s closet combined, like she didn’t just come in from the heat wave outside only to hang around in the heat wave inside. But whatever it was, it made Grace overwhelmed with the desire to just know her, the real her, not the illusion that would surely form in her head if she didn’t get to talk to her tonight.

If the crowd wasn’t virtually impossible to get through alone right now, she would have followed the magnetic pull to the other side of the room that was so obviously there, she couldn’t believe no one else seemed to feel it. She couldn’t believe no one else seemed to care.

“Grace?”

She could hear Will trying to get her attention, but couldn’t be bothered to respond. Because just then, the dark haired woman started scanning the room again like she was giving the place one last chance before making her exit, her gaze finally landing in Grace’s direction (god, it looked like she was staring right at her, please let her be staring right at her).

And when the lights shone down on her again, she smiled, waking up the butterflies in Grace’s core.

And when there was an opening in the crowd, she started walking towards the bar, making those butterflies crash into each other.

Grace didn’t think to question the butterflies. The butterflies made sense. The butterflies hadn’t come alive like that in a long time.

The butterflies felt good.

“What are you staring at?”

“Shhh,” she hushed as she waved her hand in Will’s direction without looking at him, as if the woman could hear him from across the club and get scared off. She waited for a few more seconds, until she watched her come closer and closer and she could be sure it wasn’t a fluke. “On second thought,” she said, knowing she was about to surprise him again, knowing that she didn’t care if she did, “keep the tab open. We’re already here; we might as well get a few more drinks out of it. What’s the rush?”

Yeah...what  _ was _ the rush?

Suddenly, the music and the heat and the crowd didn’t seem so bad when you put them all together.

Suddenly, she couldn’t believe she ever wanted to leave this place.

Suddenly, that pint of Ben & Jerry’s could wait in the freezer just a little bit longer.

Because she wasn’t quite sure why, but she knew with everything she had that she needed this woman to come over and take the seat that just opened up next to her.

* * *

  
It couldn’t be that hard, could it? To go out. To do something. To make it seem like she had a handle on this new life. To not slide down the tricky slope of regret. Everyone had to do it at some point. Everyone made some kind of clean break with no clue what to do next. Suck it up. Make a decision. Go somewhere. Go anywhere. Just make a move. It didn’t matter what, as long as it counted for something.

Because it had been three weeks since Karen moved out of Stan’s manse, and all she managed to do was trade her skirts for jeans.

It seemed like a big deal at the time, waking up that first morning after the move and digging through boxes she hadn’t dug through in years until she found the complete opposite of her Park Avenue uniform. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt that comfortable, felt that natural, felt that right. It was a high she rode a little too hard, calling it progress when she knew it wasn’t, not really. And now that the high was wearing off, she couldn’t help feeling like she was proving Stan right somehow. She couldn’t help feeling that the moves she made so far counted for nothing. And she hated it. She hated the routine she quickly fell into, keeping to herself as she took walks around the neighborhood, stocking up at the liquor store around the corner so she wouldn’t have to go out to get a decent martini, hanging around an empty apartment where even the slightest noise reverberated off of the hardwood. She hated that she wasn’t making an effort to break the cycle.

She wanted to take this chance and make it something brilliant. But good  _ lord, _ has this chance been dull so far.

She needed to make a change. And she needed to do it tonight.

The only problem was that she didn’t know where the hell to start.

Karen pushed herself to leave the apartment in search of something. What that something was, she wasn’t quite sure. But she knew she had to try, grateful that the longer days of summer allowed her keep her sunglasses on so that anyone who passed her on the street wouldn’t see the way her eyes were desperately scanning each building for something promising. Even though the heat of the July evening made it hard to want to venture too far from the chilly comfort of her air conditioned hideaway, it made it easy to duck into coffee shops and bookstores when she needed a break from the weather. But the bookstores were too quiet. And the coffee shops were filled with people who were either already paired off or too invested in their books to be bothered. And she knew that if she didn’t find somewhere she could actually interact with someone soon, she would only retreat back to her apartment and stay there. Because that lonely feeling she couldn’t quite shake was a little easier to handle when she wasn’t surrounded by people who could help her get rid of it, but wouldn’t.

By the time the coffee shop she landed in was ready to close--she thought maybe if she stuck around, if she nursed a drink for a little while, her luck would change, and she was in no way surprised that her plan didn’t work--the sun had set, and she could no longer hide behind the shield of her sunglasses as she walked around the city. And if she couldn’t use her shield, there was really no point in continuing this charade tonight. She might as well go home, fix herself a martini and call it a night. She might as well…

Karen stopped in front of a building a few blocks away from her apartment, taking in the music trying to break free from the walls that contained it, the people hanging around on the sidewalk taking a quick smoke break but still carrying the fun and lively vibe she assumed was in full force inside. She had no idea what this place was. But maybe that was the point. Maybe she needed something unexpected to give her a jolt. Maybe this was the place she was meant to find. Maybe this was the answer.

So she walked in the door.

In an instant, all her hope for this being the newer to her problems vanished. And it wasn’t because she had clearly walked into a gay club. Please. She could easily buy a few drinks, make a few friends, have herself an amazing time. But it wasn’t the kind of time she was hoping to have. This wasn’t going to be the kind of time where she could meet someone who would make her forget about Stan. This wasn’t going to be the kind of time where she would find the answer she was looking for and marvel at how it only took three weeks to find it. This wasn’t going to be the kind of time where she could take someone home, and even if that someone wasn’t the answer, they would at least be a temporary fix. This was disco balls and flashing neon lights and pounding music from all of the divas she barely paid attention to. This was a mistake, plain and simple. This definitely was not a groove she could get into (sorry, Madonna). Back out now. Try again tomorrow. Just go home. At least she tried.

Karen took one last look around the place, just to be sure she wasn’t missing out on anything. She was about to turn around and leave when she saw the girl at the bar who was staring back at her (at least, she  _ thought _ she was staring back at her...you could barely see a thing in this place when the disco lights weren’t flashing) and stopped in her tracks. She knew she wouldn’t be able to explain exactly what it was--not that anyone would ask--but there was just something about her that drew Karen in, red hair piled up high like a torch signalling her home. It made Karen want to stick around a little longer. It made her send a smile to the bar like there was any chance of the redhead seeing it in this light. It made her weave through the crowd. It made her heart pick up its pace when she saw the empty seat next to this girl. It made her sidle up to the bar.

It made her bold enough to be the one to say something first.

“Were you blindsided too?”

The girl startled slightly at first, her eyes wide with disbelief that Karen was actually talking to her. But then her lips started to curl into a small smile, and Karen felt overwhelmed with relief that she didn’t actually blow it right away. “What do you mean?” she asked as she took a generous swig of her drink.

Karen motioned to the dance floor. “This place. Did you realize what you were getting yourself into?”

“Oh, I knew. I just didn’t have any say in the matter.” The girl was obviously getting a little more comfortable, letting herself loosen up. She playfully started staring daggers at the guy who was seated next to her, and Karen wondered what she wedged her way into. Because of course this girl wouldn’t be alone. Of course she wouldn’t be like Karen, throwing herself into something new because she needed to. Maybe she should excuse herself now, let these two get back to whatever evening they had planned together. But just as she was trying to come up with a way out, the girl continued.  _ “Someone _ decided I’d rather spend the night in a loud club than in a quiet, peaceful apartment that I’d be able to have all to myself for a change.”

Karen couldn’t contain her smirk over the guy’s exasperated sigh. “Come on,” he said, “are you gonna bring this up all night? I thought I was helping, sue me!” 

“Eh, sue yourself.” Karen watched as the girl furrowed her brow over her sub-par comeback. It was cute, the way she said it with such conviction and the way she instantly seemed to regret it. Cute, the way her features twisted as she heard how her words sounded against the beat of the music. Cute, the way her features softened as soon as she caught a glimpse of Karen’s encouraging smile, like maybe it wasn’t as embarrassing as she thought. It endeared this girl to her instantly. It made her slide her hand over the redhead’s in a gesture that was way too familiar for having just met. But the redhead didn’t flinch. In fact, Karen could have sworn she felt her relax into it.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were a couple,” she joked.

The way the girl’s eyes lit up when she laughed was stunning. “You should have met us, like, nine years ago.” She let her free hand land on the guy’s shoulder. “Back when he tried to pass off going to Chippendales as a romantic date night for the two of us, and I  _ still _ didn’t get the hint.”

Good lord, the redhead’s laughter was contagious. Or maybe it was because this was the first lighthearted conversation she’d had with someone in a long time. But whatever it was, Karen could hear the way her giggle grew louder, matching her new friend’s as she let out an “Oh, honey” she couldn’t believe made the girl light up even more.

“I know, I know, it wasn’t a good look. But at least we’re still in each other’s lives after all of that.  _ And _ he’s got a cute live-in boyfriend to boot.”

“And you?” Karen asked, realizing a little too late how forward she sounded. But with the way this girl was opening up to her, the way she seemed to think it was easy to talk to Karen, she had to be feeling the same pull that Karen felt. Right?

Much to her relief, the redhead didn’t back down. “Me? My live-in boyfriend isn’t as cute...he also isn’t my live-in boyfriend anymore. Which is why I’m here talking to the woman who mysteriously showed up to save my night.” She gave the smallest shrug in what felt like a tease, locking her eyes with Karen’s with an intensity that would have knocked anyone to the ground. “Even though I don’t know her name.”

Karen got so lost in her gaze, it didn’t register at first that the girl was asking for an introduction. But then she saw how the look in her eyes changed (damn those eyes…), how they tried to ease it out of her, and she couldn’t believe she dropped the ball like that; she couldn’t believe that all those years with Stan had made her this rusty. “Oh!” she exclaimed when it clicked, her heart swelling a bit at the sound of the girl’s good-natured laugh. “Karen Delaney.”

“I’m Grace.” She motioned to the guy next to her. “And that’s Will.” He gave a little wave to Karen before some guy she couldn’t picture being the boyfriend pulled his attention away from them, completely unaware that he was about to be let down easy. But it was fine; Will wasn’t the one who drew Karen to the bar, anyway.

She had the girl’s--Grace’s--focus. And as far as she was concerned, that was all that mattered.

“So, Karen Delaney…” Grace drew out, and Karen couldn’t get over how wonderful her name sounded when the redhead’s voice wrapped around it. “What’s your poison?”

Karen didn’t even realize she hadn’t ordered a drink yet (that was a first). She looked down at Grace’s empty glass, and with the overwhelming desire to be closer to her, nodded towards it without caring what it used to be. “Yours.”

Grace studied her for a moment, and as she waved down the bartender, Karen wondered if she was meant to notice the way the redhead bit down on her lower lip before she looked away; Karen wondered if it was another one of those signs she shouldn’t shrug off. “Two more vodka sodas,” Grace called out to the bartender before waving away the cash Karen was pulling out of her purse. “Don’t worry about it, it’s going on the tab.”

“Honey, you don’t have to pay for my drink.”

_ “I’m _ not paying for it,” she grinned, nodding her head in Will’s direction as she grabbed her drink from the bartender and put the straw to her lips. “He is.” Karen glanced over at Will for a second, ready for him to object. But she saw the way he was still trying to get rid of the guy who wormed his way next to him, and she figured he probably wouldn’t notice one more drink. She could always buy the next round to cancel it out, anyway. She could buy the next few rounds and make Will and Grace her new best friends. Hell, she could buy the next few rounds for the entire club and have everybody in the place on her side. Because honestly, if she really was going to end up back at Stan’s manse the way she’d spent the last three weeks thinking she would, she might as well go out with a bang. Celebrate this freedom while she still could.

Although...something told her that her chances of this little experiment--as Stan so callously put it--actually working were rising higher and higher, the longer Grace talked to her. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world.

“What about you?” Grace asked, pulling Karen back into reality as she took another sip of her drink. “What brought you here to get blindsided?”

Karen bit back a laugh. Where should she begin? How far back should she really go? Was her chapter with Stan really something to casually discuss while the DJ traded Madonna for Cher for Whitney? She just got this girl to like her; she wasn’t about to trash the first connection she made outside of Park Avenue by dragging her into that sob story. So she shrugged and tried to keep it as vague as she could, saving the deeper dive for the slim chance of ever actually seeing Grace again. “I just moved to the area, thought I’d do a little exploring. Although, I’m not sure it went too well.”

“I’m not sure it was a complete failure, either,” Grace said, the light in her eyes rivaling the lights swirling down on them from above, the smile on her lips coloring her voice in the best way. And Karen couldn’t help but agree. “So where are you from?”

She nearly told her she was from the Upper East Side before she swallowed her answer down with her vodka. Good  _ lord, _ Karen. Don’t tell her that. Don’t leave her with the impression of yourself you’ve been trying to shake off. “All over, really,” she finally said, taking a long swig off of her drink. “I moved around a lot over the years, before I landed here.” It wasn’t a lie; her mother had moved her and her sister around so many times when she was a kid that there were days when she didn’t know what state she had woken up in. And when she ran away at sixteen, she found it impossible to settle down anywhere. It wasn’t until she met and married her first husband that she really stayed somewhere for longer than a few months. But she could file all of that with the deeper dive she still wasn’t entirely convinced would ever happen.

Keep this light, Karen. Keep this fun. Don’t make everything come crashing down just yet.

Grace clinked their near empty classes together in a toast. “Well, then...welcome to New York,” she declared before she drained the rest of her drink. “I promise it’s not all like this.” She laughed as her gaze wandered around their surroundings one more time.

Oh. Wait.  _ Cripes. _ She hadn’t even known this girl for that long, and she was already messing things up. She didn’t mean to sell herself like that, like she hadn’t stepped foot in Manhattan until now. She didn’t mean for her truth to be twisted into a lie. She should really say something. She should try to straighten it out.

But then again...

Maybe this was the chance she was looking for, to break free from everything--every person--she ever thought she was in the time she’s been in this city. Maybe this was a cleaner getaway than the one she got when she moved to Chelsea. Maybe in the long run, this one little misunderstanding wouldn’t matter once they’ve spent enough time together  _ (if _ they spend any more time together). Maybe this was one of those things better saved for the deeper dive.

Or maybe she should quit now before she dug herself too deep into this hole.

God, it was too loud in here to think. Her thoughts were clashing with the music. Her thoughts were clashing with everything. She needed to get out. And she needed to bring Grace with her.

“I could use some air. Do you wanna go get some air?” Karen asked, wanting so desperately to be with her somewhere she didn’t need to contend with the sea of guys singing along to “Groove Is in the Heart” and her own thoughts about how the DJ needed to make up his damn mind on whether groove was already in the heart, or if you needed to get into it first.

The redhead didn’t hesitate to grab her purse. “Sure,” she nodded. “Let’s go.”

Karen grabbed Grace’s hand purely out of instinct, to lead her out of the club. It wasn’t until she was halfway through the crowd that she realized what she was doing. It wasn’t until she was halfway through the crowd that she realized what  _ Grace _ was doing. Because it was one thing to take someone’s hand and let them guide you through a packed space; it was another thing entirely to take your free hand and wrap it around your guide’s arm, pulling her closer to you when you didn’t need to. But Karen felt the charge Grace’s touch sent through her, the warmth of the redhead’s body so close to her own. And she wondered if Grace felt the spark, too.

She couldn’t help hoping that Grace did.

When they made it out of the club, Karen couldn’t believe how much cooler it was on the street than it was inside. She leaned against the brick facade of the building as she fished around in her purse for a cigarette, feeling Grace’s amused eyes on her as she lit it and let the smoke start to calm her nerves.

“So much for air,” Grace joked, giving her a lighthearted nudge.

Karen couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, so maybe it was a little quiet that I needed. You’re free to go back in there if you want,” she teased.

Grace’s arm brushed against hers as the redhead put her back to the wall. “I think I like it better out here,” she said softly. They fell silent for a moment, Karen taking a long drag off of her cigarette, Grace staring at the street ahead of her for a moment like she was lost in thought before turning to face her new companion. The redhead took a breath like she wasn’t sure if she should say what was on her mind but then decided to forge ahead anyway. “So, why are you  _ really _ here tonight?”

Karen furrowed her brow, trying to hide the feeling of being caught in the act that she just couldn’t shake. “Honey, whaddya talk? I told you why.”

“Yeah, okay, new to the area, wanted to explore, whatever. But I don’t think that’s all there is to it. I think there’s something deeper going on.” Grace dropped her gaze to her hands as she shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I’m projecting some of my own stuff onto you. But it feels like you and I are in the same boat somehow. I think it’s why I was hoping you would come sit next to me tonight.”

Karen wondered if the redhead could sense the way her breath hitched in that moment. Grace  _ did _ see her when she walked in. Grace wanted to be near her. So maybe Grace felt the charge the same way she did. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to trust her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let her in.

She flicked the ash off of her cigarette and sighed. “Have you ever taken a step back from your life and realized it’s so far from what you want for yourself, but you have no idea how you got there?”

“Of course. Why do you think Will dragged me out of the house tonight? He was trying to distract me from all of that.” Grace leaned her head back against the brick. “You get to a point where you think you can live with pretending that you’re fine. And then you get to a point where you can’t believe you ever thought pretending was okay.”

“And  _ then _ you do things like accidentally walk into gay clubs, trying to find your way back.” She couldn’t get over the way Grace’s soft laugh harmonized perfectly with her own, like they were always meant to laugh together. “Well, god, honey...I guess we  _ are _ in the same boat.”

“Good. That means we won’t be alone in this.”

Karen didn’t bother to contain her smirk. “Oh, we won’t? How come?”

She didn’t know if it was the drink that was fueling Grace, or if it was the truth. She didn’t know if Grace would regret it or double down on it when the sun came up. What she did know was that Grace knew how to make her feel every syllable that slipped from those lips. And she felt it when the redhead’s voice dropped a little lower as she leaned in and murmured, “Because I’m not done with you yet, Karen Delaney.”

God, she was so close. All Karen would have to do was tilt her head the slightest bit, and she could brush her lips against Grace’s if she wanted to. And if she was being honest, she wanted to. If she was being honest, she could swear Grace wanted to as well. That line felt like an invitation. And as Karen started to lean in, she saw the way Grace nodded like she was beckoning her to close the gap between them. She started to lose herself in the moment. She started...

“There you are! I found Jack, let’s get out of here.”

In an instant, Grace pulled away and turned her attention to the voice that had just called out. Karen shifted to look over the redhead’s shoulder and found Will standing there with another guy clearly giving Karen a once over, trying to figure out her deal (was he the boyfriend? Grace said the boyfriend was cute, and those puppy eyes certainly qualified). The air felt thick with frustration over being interrupted, and she knew it wasn’t just her feeling; Grace scoffed, and with a hint of annoyance asked, “Who’d you have to pull him away from?”

“Only the love of my life!” Jack whined.

Will’s brow furrowed as he turned to face him. “You said that about the guy doing crunches at the gym this morning.  _ And _ those two guys in the weight room.”

Okay, so he  _ wasn’t _ the boyfriend.

Grace let out an exasperated sigh just as Jack was gearing up his screeching defense. “Give me a minute, okay?” she asked before turning back to Karen. “Of course he wants to leave, now that I’m having a good time,” she said, nearly a whisper.

“Devil. It’s so typical,” Karen muttered as she rolled her eyes. And before she could stop it, she let it out. “Someone always has to ruin it before you get to the good stuff.”

The light in Grace’s eyes blinded her. “Tell me about it,” the redhead smirked, sparking something in Karen’s core. “So I guess that’s my cue.”

“Honey, do you have to go?”

_ “Someone’s _ got to be the mediator for those two.” They could hear the guys arguing behind them--Will calling Jack a howler monkey, Jack becoming more and more incoherent as his voice jumped one octave and then the next--but Karen wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. And as if Grace could read her mind, the redhead started fishing around in her purse, smiling as she pulled out a pen. “Let me see your hand,” she said.

Karen held out her palm, marveling at how soft Grace’s touch was before she felt the pen start to tickle her skin. “Just so you know, I realize how high school this is,” Grace said as she kept her gaze on her work, “but I didn’t think to swipe a cocktail napkin to write on.” And when she let go of her hand, Karen glanced down to see what she had written.

She traced her finger over Grace’s name--her full name--and phone number, traveling the curves of the redhead’s handwriting.

“For the next time you need a little air,” Grace murmured. And then she caught up to Will and Jack and made her exit.

Karen watched the three of them walk down the street, saw Grace turning around for one last glimpse before they turned the corner. She lit another cigarette before she started her journey back home. And she couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly things turn around sometimes. She couldn’t believe how close she was to giving up tonight. Just look at who she would have missed out on if she did. Someone who got it. Someone who got  _ her. _ Someone who opened the door. Someone who was giving her a chance. Someone who gave her the slightest bit of hope. Someone who wasn’t done with her yet.

She realized how much of a gift that really was. And she knew she wasn’t going to waste it.

She got home, rushed to find a scrap piece of paper to write the number down on, and set it by the phone, making sure it was ready to go for when she decided to make the call. And she  _ would _ make the call.

Because she wasn’t done with Grace Adler yet, either.


	4. If You Want To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4LAfhrLbwg)

_**“So now I’ve called** _   
_**Yes, it’s been a couple days** _   
_**Okay, seven, this I know** _   
_**But I’ve been moving kinda slow** _   
_**And so I called** _   
_**Oh, it must be so appalling** _   
_**If you think that I’ve been stalling** _   
_**This is me now, I am calling** _   
_**And I’m better than before** _   
_**And I’d like to talk to you”** _

_ July 1994 _

She waited too long. She missed her window. She blew it. She was sure of it.

It wasn’t like she wanted to let so much time pass. Please. If Karen had her way, she would have picked up the phone the morning after the club and dialed the numbers she kept right next to it, the numbers that had all but disappeared from her palm. She would have asked Grace out--for coffee, for drinks, for dinner, for whatever--and held her breath as she waited for an answer. She would have probably heard a yes from the other end of the phone, because you don’t just tell someone you’re not done with them yet if you don’t mean it. And she would have spent the rest of the day finding the perfect spot for them to keep whatever this connection was going (or maybe, since Grace seemed to believe that Karen was fresh off the bus, she would get to see one of the redhead’s favorite haunts and get to know her a little better). Some small part of Karen told her that it would have been okay, that Grace wouldn’t get spooked off if she called so soon.

But that small part of her was no match for the larger part that told her how desperate it would look to pull that kind of thing, how calling the first chance she got would make it seem like she had no life, how it would seem like she was clinging to something that was likely fueled by vodka or heat exhaustion or some other trick of the mind. So she convinced herself that she should wait, just a day or two, just to let the dust settle before going in again. Just to make sure it was something she really wanted (even though she knew damn well she wanted it the second she saw Grace in that club, and hasn’t stopped wanting it since). But then those two days went by, and she picked up the scrap of paper with Grace’s number on it, and she froze. Because what the hell was she supposed to say? How casual was this supposed to be?  _ Nothing _ about that night felt casual, but she barely knew this girl; maybe this was just what Grace did. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to her as it did to Karen. Maybe giving one more person her phone number wasn’t that big of a deal to her.

Maybe Karen needed to hold off on calling until she could sort out the jumbled thoughts in her mind. So she did. She waited for another day, and then another, passing by the phone, glancing at the number that was staring back at her, thinking she just needed a little more time.

The next thing she knew, seven days had gone by. And she still hadn’t called. And she was convinced that calling now, after so much time had passed, was completely pointless. Because she was convinced that by now, Grace Adler was absolutely done with Karen Delaney.

Good lord, when did she get so unsure of herself? This wasn’t like her (then again, when was the last time she felt like herself?). Before she settled with Stan, she never thought twice about going up to someone and throwing out a line to see if they’d catch it. And they always caught it. It was how she met her first husband, and her second. It was how she met every single man, every single woman, who ever meant something to her, who ever lasted longer than a month or two. In fact, when she really thought about it, Stan was the only one she could remember ever making the first move (maybe that should have been a clue). Hell, she guessed technically, she even made the first move with Grace. That is, if you could call “Were you blindsided too?” a move. But she was the one to make her way through the crowded club to get to the redhead. She was the one to talk first. She did that.

So why couldn’t she get herself to take that next step?

Grace seemed to like her. They seemed to have a real connection, or at least as real as you could get under disco lights and pulsing beats. Karen had felt more like herself that night than she had in years. But she was still trying to figure out who she was outside of her relationship with Stanley; did she really want to drag someone else into this mess? Grace didn’t deserve to wade through the mud with her. But she had to admit, she’d love the company. And maybe they wouldn’t be wading through that much mud. Or maybe she’d be leading Grace into a complete disaster. Or maybe enough time had gone by to allow Grace to forget about Karen entirely.

Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe…

This week-long back and forth was exhausting. And the clamor in her head grew so loud when she was holed up in the apartment, with no one else around to help her quiet it.

She needed to get out of here, away from the phone, away from her indecision.

Karen pushed herself outside and ducked into the coffee shop around the corner that had become her go-to whenever she needed a place to duck into. She didn’t mean to become a regular here, but Delia--the owner who always seemed to be around when Karen walked in--sealed it the time she caught Karen slipping a little Baileys into her mug and, instead of asking her to leave, brought two mugs to Karen’s table and traded a free refill for a splash of the good stuff. It was a small connection, but the chit chat and check-ins were enough to keep Karen coming back to her usual table by the window. She told Delia the basics about Stan (leaving out the Upper East Side and the fortune attached to his name) and her attempt at self re-discovery. Delia told her about the ex-girlfriend who had cheated and supposedly moved on, but lately started calling to reconnect and send mixed signals over phone lines. They vented; they helped each other. They became friends over spiked dark roast.

When Karen walked through the door, she immediately locked eyes with Delia, who directed her to her table from behind the counter without a word. Karen sat down with a sigh, staring absently at the space in front of her while her mind instantly went to all the reasons she sought out a distraction in the first place. The push and pull of debating whether to call Grace was too strong to focus on anything else. Which was why she didn’t notice that Delia had set her usual in front of her and sat down with her own mug until the silence was broken.

“Damn, what’s got you looking so serious?” Delia asked. She watched as Karen jumped back into reality and let out a little laugh as held out her hand. “Flask, please.”

Karen rummaged in her bag until she found her flask and slid it across the table. She went back in to fish out a couple bills to pay for her drink, shook her head as Delia brushed them away the second they hit the table. “Just thinking about how you never seem to take my money anymore,” she quipped, leaving the bills resting between them.

“I don’t need your money. I’ve got other people’s money,” Delia said as she unscrewed the flask and poured.

Karen made a show of looking around at the nearly empty coffee shop, only one other table occupied. “Yeah... I can really see that, honey.”

“Well, if you’re going to be like  _ that, _ I guess you’re not getting this back.” Delia arched her brow as she dangled the flask in front of her for a moment before she saw the way Karen’s jaw dropped in offense and relented. “And stop skirting around the subject,” she said as she handed it off to Karen. “Tell me what’s up.”

Karen gave herself a generous pour from the flask as a way to buy herself a little time. “I met someone last week,” she sighed. “Grace. And she gave me her number, but I just haven’t gotten around to picking up the phone yet. And I know it’s probably too late, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

She left Delia speechless for a moment. “Karen, I’ve seen you every day this week. How is this the first I’m hearing of a new girl?!”

“Because we’ve been busy with your journey into Ex-Girlfriend Land,” Karen smirked before she took a sip from her mug.

“Ugh, god. We’ve given Nadine way too much of our time, we need to stop. I want to hear about Grace.”

“There’s not much to say! We met at a club, we started talking, she bought me a drink. And then after a while, we went outside to get away from the crowd, and we got a little...close.”

Delia’s eyes grew a little wider.  _ “Close?” _

Karen shrugged. “Well, I would’ve kissed her if her damn friends didn’t interrupt us!”

“Karen! Oh my god!” It was so obvious to Karen that Delia was eating this up. And if she was being honest, it felt pretty good to be able to spill this to someone, to let someone else carry it with them so that she knew this was real, that this happened. She saw the way Delia’s lips curled as she laughed in disbelief. “So what, she gives you her number so you can pick up where you left off, and you do nothing about it? What gives?”

“I don’t know, it’s just...how do I know it wasn’t just a fluke? How do I know she wasn’t just humoring me? For all I know, she was expecting her number to be all smudged on my hand by the time I got back home and figured I was never gonna call.”

“She wrote her number down  _ on your hand? _ That’s so cute.” Delia’s sigh sounded almost wistful as she took a sip from her mug. “But come on. How do you know what she feels unless you talk to her again? She gave you her number, you know that she was into you enough to at least do that; what’s the big deal? I mean, my god...you told me you once got Martina Navratilova into your bed just by giving her a  _ look.” _

Karen crossed her arms. “And  _ you _ told me you didn’t believe me.”

“I’m still not sure I do,” Delia winked. “But regardless of what I think...if you can do that, you can make a lousy phone call. I don’t get what the hold up is.”

“It’s not that simple. Too much time has passed since the club, she probably doesn’t even remember that it happened. And Martina...honey, that was a long time ago. I was a different person back then.”

Delia studied Karen for a second before she took a breath. “Look, I know I haven’t known you for very long, and I know you think being with Stan changed a part of you that you can’t change back. But I think you and I both know that’s bullshit. You’re still you. You’re a badass, Karen. You bring liquor into coffee shops; you make your own damn rules. So stop living by his.” She nudged her mug against Karen’s in solidarity before she cracked a smirk. “And for the love of god, go call your girl already.”

_ Your _ girl. Not  _ the _ girl. Like Grace had walked into her life years ago instead of last week.

_ Your _ girl. Like it was always meant to be that way. Maybe it was.

It was in her hands now. But she had it in her to make a move, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself she didn’t. It was already there; even Delia could see it, and they had barely known each other for a month. Besides, how hard could it possibly be to try? She had done it before, for people who weren’t worth it.

She could do it again, for someone who was.

Karen sighed her surrender. “I hate it when you’re right,” she muttered, unable to control the smallest crack of a smile.

Delia slid her hand over Karen’s “I can’t believe you haven’t gotten to the point where you admit I always am,” she said warmly.

Karen drained the rest of her coffee before ceremoniously setting it back down on the table and getting up from her seat. She grabbed the cash Delia refused to take and slipped it into the tip jar on her way out, smiling as she heard Delia shout “I want a full report tomorrow” behind her. She felt herself pick up her pace the closer she got to her apartment, felt herself starting to believe this could actually happen. That Grace would pick up when she called. That Grace wouldn’t mind that it had been a week. That Grace wanted to see her again. That Grace really could be her girl. That it could really be that easy. And even if it wasn’t that easy, even if the spell had been broken and Grace was no longer interested, at least Karen would have an answer. At least Karen would know. At least she would be able to move on.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling--the hope--that she wouldn’t have to.

She made it inside her apartment, grabbed the piece of paper that had Grace’s number on it. She picked up the phone. And as she took a deep breath, she hoped to god that there’d be an answer on the other end.

* * *

  
“Think you’ll get a call today?”

Grace looked up from her coffee mug to find Will smirking at her from across the dining table. No. It was too early to deal with this. She wasn’t about to start her day off by dragging her hopes and her disappointments out into the daylight for them to pick through. Let her get properly caffeinated first. Or just stop now before it has the chance to go any further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said dismissively before bringing the mug to her lips, even though they both knew it was a lie.

“Please, you’ve been staring at the phone for a week practically begging for it to ring! That’s why you  _ exchange _ numbers, not scribble down your own and run away.”

The love she had for Will was greater than the love she had for almost anyone else she had ever made a connection with in her lifetime. Which made it that much more infuriating when he started pushing her buttons for fun. And the worst part of it all was that she knew he didn’t mean any harm by it. She knew he just wanted her to talk about what happened at the club last week, to stop keeping it to herself and let it out. But she couldn’t do it yet, not when she was still trying to figure out what it all meant to her, what it meant  _ for _ her. Because Karen Delaney affected her in a way that no other woman had before, in a way that no other person had before, in no time at all. And she wasn’t sure what to do with that.

She remembered coming home that night, how it was virtually impossible to fall asleep because her body was humming with the charge that sparked the second Karen took her by the hand to lead her outside the club and refused to fade. But when she was finally able to get some rest, she woke up wondering how much of that charge was truly real. She wondered how much of it could be given up to circumstance. Because really, when she thought about it, so many things could have played a part in this. Maybe she could blame it on the vodka. Maybe she could blame it on Karen being the only one there that she could really connect with. Maybe she could blame it on the heat and the music and the disco lights coming together to turn her mind inside out. Maybe she really wasn’t as fine with her split from Danny as she thought she was.

Maybe she was just trying to find something to blame to make it easier to take when Karen didn’t call.

Because that would be just her luck, hitting it off with someone who seemed to be everything she had been missing, only to realize that the night only meant something to her. And to be fair, when she didn’t hear anything from Karen the next day, it wasn’t that much of a let down; she chalked it up to being overeager, tried to remind herself that these things take time sometimes. But the days of radio silence started to pile up, and the longer she went without a call, the more she started questioning her own recollection of the night. It was a good night. It  _ was. _ At least she thought it was. But was she a little too aggressive around someone she just met? Did she get a little too close? Was Karen just being nice, thinking she’d never have to see Grace again, so she might as well just let her do her thing?

Did she read that entire night wrong?

The wait was excruciating, and trying to figure out the reasons behind it--trying to figure out why this wait was so excruciating in the first place--made everything so much worse. But there was no way she was going to just casually dive into that whole mess over breakfast. So she decided to keep the mask on for a little while longer. “Will, you’re making this into too much of a thing. It’s not a big deal.” She saw the way his brow arched in a challenge and decided to double down. “It’s not! If I get a call, I get a call. If I don’t, I don’t. So let’s just drop it, okay?”

“Wait, who’s supposed to call?” Michael perked up, jumping into the conversation by setting the newspaper he had been reading down on the table. Grace threw her head into her hands and muttered an “Oh my  _ god” _ under her breath. This was hell. This was her nightmare. And as she slowly started to peek through her fingers to see the look on Will’s face, she knew it was just beginning.

Will turned to his boyfriend, never once letting that sly smile falter. “Grace met someone last week,” he declared with an annoying sense of pride, like she had accomplished some impossible feat. Meeting someone was easy; she met people all the time. Meeting someone who mattered was something else completely.

Karen mattered; there was no question. But she wasn’t going to talk about her chance with someone who mattered when she wasn’t even sure she had one yet.

Still, Michael’s eyes grew wide before his gaze shifted to Grace. “She  _ did?” _ God, his excitement, the way Will seemed to be encouraging this unnecessarily large reaction...it was like both of them were using their good intentions to conspire against her. Because this was the absolute last thing she wanted to talk about with them. But she knew how her guys operated; she wasn’t going to be let off the hook anytime soon. “That’s fantastic!” Michael continued. “Tell me about him, what’s his name?”

Grace choked back an involuntary laugh at the mention of a “him” and before she could bounce back, Will’s smile grew bigger as he blurted it out. “Karen.”

She saw the way Michael smiled as his jaw started to drop and his eyes started to light up, and tried in vain to put a stop to it all. “Guys…”

_ “Karen? _ She met a  _ Karen?” _

Will nodded. “At the new club downtown.”

“Oh my god, it’s fate! Can you even imagine? Walking into the last place you’d expect to meet someone and finding the love of your life?” The most satisfied look started playing across Michael’s face at the thought.  _ “That’s _ a story.”

Whoa. Slow it down. How did she get here? How did Karen suddenly become the love of her life when she couldn’t even figure out whether the butterflies she felt last week were a complete fluke (it wasn’t like she had ever felt them for a woman before, what made her think she could feel them for a woman now)? More importantly, how did Karen suddenly become the love of her life when she couldn’t even get Karen to give her a call? She needed to cut them off before they started planning her commitment ceremony to a woman she had only known for a couple of hours. But the glee in Michael’s voice was overwhelming as he leaned in to Will, completely content to carry on this conversation like she wasn’t sitting directly across from them. “Is she cute?”

“Yeah, definitely...you know, for a girl,” Will joked, daring to throw a good natured wink in his best friend’s direction.

“Guys! I’m right here!” Grace let out an exasperated sigh as she leaned back into her chair. “Look, it was one night, we were the only two women in the place, so of course we were going to strike something up. I liked her, we were friendly and we’re going through some of the same stuff right now, so I just...opened the door for a new friend. That’s it.”

Will looked at her like she was insane.  _ “Friendly?! _ Grace, if Jack and I had come out of the club five seconds later, we would have found you two with your tongues down each other’s throats.” He paused for a minute, studying his best friend before gently coming out with it. “You know it’s okay to be into her, right?”

Grace froze, a deer in headlights. Because she remembered how close she was to kissing Karen that night. She remembered wanting it more than anything in that moment, and she remembered the intense wave of disappointment that crashed over her the second Will’s voice pulled her away. But she had no idea Will saw them like that. She figured she reacted quickly enough for him not to notice the way the space between them became nonexistent, quickly enough for him not to ask the questions she knew he would otherwise ask. Quickly enough for her to be able to process her feelings on her own timeline. She didn’t want to admit to anything yet, not with the distinct possibility of it ending before it truly got started hanging over her head.

But then again...would it be so bad to actually talk it through? She was doing a terrible job of sorting everything out on her own; who’s to say Will and Michael would make it worse? Maybe it would help. Maybe she should admit that she was into Karen (because, if she was being honest, she really was). Maybe...

“Nope. I’m not doing this. I am  _ not _ dissecting my love life...or lack thereof...with Dad and Dad today.” She drained the last of her coffee before getting up from her seat and heading towards her bedroom. As much as a second opinion would be helpful, she just didn’t have the energy to even begin to break this down.

“Oh, come on! You’re no fun,” Will laughed as she walked away.

By the time she got to the hallway, the phone rang. And she stopped in her tracks.

It had been a week. It was foolish to think the things that sprang to her mind. But she was hidden from Will and Michael’s view. And it would be a pretty stellar coincidence. And it wouldn’t do any harm to just linger here for a little bit, to eavesdrop until she knew for sure that it wasn’t meant for her. Just in case there was still a sliver of a chance. Not that there was.

But there could be.

“Gracie?” Will called out. “It’s for you.”

It was her mother, springing a last minute visit on her. It was one of her sisters, choosing to spend the morning airing out some decades-old grievance. It was Danny, trying to get her to come back. It was everyone other than the one person she wanted. It was what she kept telling herself as she slowly made her way into her bedroom and sat down on the mattress, staring at the phone on the nightstand for a second before picking it up and holding it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Grace,” she heard from the other end of the phone. “It’s Karen. From the club last week?”

In an instant, Grace knew for sure that the butterflies she felt last week were no fluke. In an instant, she knew that this was real. And she tried like hell to compose herself, tried to make sure she wouldn’t make it unbearably obvious how desperate she was for this call. Because there was no way she was screwing this up. She took a breath and let a small smile curl her lips. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear from you,” she murmured, hoping it sounded more playful than it did relieved.

“Yeah, well…it just took me a bit to realize that I needed a little air.”

Karen would have floored Grace with that, if Grace wasn’t already sitting down. It had been bold of the redhead, throwing down a line like that as she gave out her number, thinking she was smooth. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt that kind of brazen confidence; up until now, she couldn’t tell if she should even call it confidence. But whatever it was that fueled it, the longer she went without hearing anything from Karen, the more she started regretting it. It started feeling less bold, less smooth, and started feeling more embarrassing. She couldn’t stop questioning herself.

But now, she couldn’t believe it actually worked.

She wondered what would happen if she were that bold all the time.

God...she wasn’t even sure if she had the energy to be that bold all the time.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Karen continued, and Grace was relieved to know the thoughts running through her mind right now hadn’t escaped her lips without her realizing it. “For all I know, I missed my window. But I was thinking about trying a little exploring again...and I was thinking it might go better this time if I had someone to go exploring with.”

It was incredible, the way Karen would either touch on the beginning of that night in all of its awkward “What brought you to this part of the city?” small talk glory, or the abrupt end of that night as Will and Jack pulled her away from her good time. It was incredible that Karen said nothing of the in-between. Nothing about the way she squeezed Grace’s hand the second Grace wrapped herself around her as they made their way out of the club. Nothing about the way there was no air between them even though Karen said she needed it, nothing about the way that Karen seemed to be as fine without air as Grace had been. Nothing about the way they absolutely would have kissed if they weren’t so rudely interrupted. Maybe Karen had taken the week to reexamine that night. Maybe she decided she would have done things a little bit differently, wouldn’t have pulled Grace out of the club with her, wouldn’t have leaned in the way she did, wouldn’t have asked Grace if she really had to go. Maybe Grace should have seen it coming.

Although...

Karen called. Which meant that, in spite of all of the reasons she could think of for this radio silence, Karen wanted to see her again. That was something. So maybe it wasn’t that she would have done things differently. Maybe she just wanted to go slow. And if Grace was being completely honest, slow wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Slow would let her sort out her feelings; slow would let her get used to the way her butterflies were suddenly standing at attention for a woman. Slow wouldn’t rock the boat they were supposedly both on. Slow would let her get to know Karen better, figure out why she felt so insanely connected to her the instant she saw her. Slow could let them grow. 

Maybe slow was exactly what both of them needed.

“So, honey…” Karen pulled her out of her mind as she realized she hadn’t spoken yet, “whaddya say?”

Yeah, Grace...what do you say?

“I say...I think I could show you a few spots,” she murmured.

And as she heard Karen’s soft, satisfied laugh on the other end of the line, Grace swore she could see the dark haired woman’s smile, as big as her own, flashing brilliantly in her mind.


	5. Angels Would Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this changer can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eC8FfGvCFho)

_**“So I’ll come by and see you again** _   
_**I’ll be such a very good friend** _   
_**Have mercy on my soul** _   
_**I will never let you know** _   
_**Where my mind has been”** _

_ September 1994 _

If it had been anyone else who commanded her attention the way Karen did, she would have thought that this was all a game. That they were revealing just enough for her to stay interested, but never letting her in completely. That this was a puzzle, and she was only being given one piece at a time without knowing what the picture was supposed to look like. That it didn’t matter how long they were feeding her puzzle pieces one by one, because she was never going to get the whole picture. That no matter how close she thought she got, she would always be at arm’s length. And eventually, she would have given up. Eventually, she would have pulled back. Eventually, she would have lost the game. And the loss would have been a relief.

But this was different. Karen was different. She could feel it. And Karen felt real. They had both been burned by men who played games, who withheld pieces of their puzzle, who kept them at arm’s length. They were both looking for something different, something true. And every time she looked at Karen, she saw truth.

It excited her and scared her all at once.

There were times when Grace was convinced she was losing her mind. She would meet Karen for dinner, or find a bar they could waste a little time in, or just wander around the city streets, and she would feel so incredibly safe to speak, to feel, to be whatever she needed to in those moments. She would feel safe to let Karen in, even though they barely knew each other. And she let Karen all the way in, unable to stop the words from spilling out of her mouth once she truly got going. By the time July rolled in to August, she had given the in-depth history of her connection with Will, every little detail about her relationship with Danny, and on more than one occasion went on and on about how much her job was slowly draining the life out of her and how upsetting it was that this was supposed to be her passion. And by the time August was about to meet September, she had poured her heart out about every other guy who had done her wrong and couldn’t stop herself from beginning to get into the dysfunctional dynamic of her family and how she couldn’t wait to get away from Schenectady the first chance she got. She hadn’t realized until it was too late just how much information she had piled on top of Karen. But Karen never seemed to mind. Karen always seemed to listen, to care. Karen always made it safe.

It should have relieved Grace, to have someone like this in her life. But every time Karen made it safe, Grace fell a little harder. And when Karen slowly started sharing parts of her own life, when she found it as safe as Grace did, Grace knew she was too far gone on this woman.

It always came quietly, in pieces, when Grace wasn’t quite expecting it and could be affected by it the most. They were walking along Riverside Park when she learned about Karen’s mother and how she always seemed to bring bad men into her daughter’s life. They were in the middle of lunch around the corner from Grace’s office when she learned that Karen had been on her own since she was sixteen and had never really stopped feeling guilty for having to leave her little sister behind. Over one drink, she learned that Karen had been married before and she tried like hell to make it work. Over a second, she learned that just before they met, Karen had narrowly escaped a relationship that was suffocating her, landing in Chelsea to start over again. If it had been Danny, if it had been any other person telling her all of this so soon after they met, Grace would have been overwhelmed, freaked out, likely trying to find her exit. It would have been too much too fast. But as soon as she heard everything Karen had to tell her, Grace wanted to take her in her arms and do everything in her power to keep the dark haired woman from ever hurting like that again. It was how she knew there was no going back. It was how she knew what Karen meant to her, what she would always mean to her.

Not that Grace could ever tell her that.

They never talked about the night they met, how close they were to each other’s lips, how close Grace was to letting Karen do anything she wanted with her, to her. She had no idea if Karen thought it was a mistake (although the silence on the subject let her jump to conclusions). She had no idea if Karen even thought about it. All she knew was that this woman was meant to be in her life somehow, and she didn’t want to risk losing her because she couldn’t keep her own secrets. So she swore to herself that she would try to swallow them every time the words scrambled for escape. Be the best friend she possibly could. Never give Karen a reason to think there was something she was harboring beneath the surface. She liked what they had. It was far better than nothing. It was far better than a lot of things. And she wasn’t about to mess that up by revealing what she felt. She wasn’t about to give in to the crazy notion that something more could ever happen.

But good god, Karen made it so hard sometimes. Just in the way she moved. The way she laughed that breathless laugh of hers. The way she drew out her words when she was disappointed or when she was trying to be persuasive or when she started to get the slightest bit sentimental, and how distinct each of those inflections were. The way she could hold her liquor and the way she could always seem to tell when Grace was one drink away from the point of no return. The way she wrapped her lips around her cigarette and made Grace’s thoughts turn on a dime. The way the smoke could never mask the scent of her gardenia perfume. The way she had a decade on Grace and made the redhead feel like she could be shielded from whatever bad things lay ahead, because Karen already knew where they were hiding. The way she made Grace think about what it would be like to wake up next to her, to be touched by her, to be loved deeply by her. But friends don’t think about each other like that. And she didn’t want to come off as the straight girl who felt like experimenting (although she knew deep down that this was no experiment). So she pretended she didn’t think about Karen like that, for the sake of their connection.

It wasn’t until Karen asked Grace to meet her at the coffee shop by her apartment that Grace finally let herself believe that Karen thought about her like that, too.

Karen had first suggested it over Friday night martinis meant to ease Grace’s memory of a rough work week into oblivion. Grace never really used to drink them before she started hanging out with Karen. But she couldn’t get over how the contrast between the jeans and t-shirts she always saw the dark haired woman wearing and what she always thought of as such a sophisticated (uppity? Be honest, Grace, just call it uppity) drink made so much sense when it was Karen’s hand wrapped around the glass. And Grace had figured it couldn’t hurt to try one, if it meant being the slightest bit closer to her. With the first drink, she had felt Karen’s eyes resting on her as she took a sip. She had been completely unprepared for the strength of it but had been filled by the way Karen laughed good-naturedly and told her she’d get used to it by the second one as she scrunched her face up. She had noticed how it went down a little easier with each sip. By the second martini, she had been smiling over the fact that Karen was exactly right. By the time she had been contemplating a third even though her head was already swimming, Karen had casually mentioned something about meeting her for coffee the next afternoon at this place she was always at. As if getting a true glimpse into her life could ever truly be casual.

Grace had jumped at the invitation. All this time, she had been showing Karen her usual haunts until they became Karen’s usual haunts, and she had been fine with it; she knew from the start that Karen hadn’t been here very long, and she knew she would be shaping her new friend’s view of New York for a little while. But to be able to see how Karen chose to spend her time when they weren’t together meant that she got another puzzle piece to lock into place. It meant she got to see the picture of Karen Delaney a little better.

And right now, that was all she wanted.

She woke up in the morning with a surprising lack of hangover and a nervous thrill coursing through her veins. She tiptoed out of her room to discover Will’s and Michael’s bedroom door was wide open and the guys were nowhere to be found, and she let out a sigh of relief knowing she could get ready to meet Karen without the lighthearted teasing that came around every time they figured out who she was meeting. Grace knew they meant well. She knew they were just excited that she met someone who excited her. But good  _ god, _ she wished they would ease up a little. It may have been fun for them, knowing that their little Gracie had a crush on a girl--and if she was being honest, it  _ was _ fun when she was in Karen’s presence and could tune out the memory of Will’s and Michael’s singsonged playfulness--but it was as if they had forgotten what it was like the first time they fell for another guy, how new and terrifying and confusing it must have been for them even though they knew deep down how right it was. Her own jumbled thoughts were enough to listen to as she ran a brush through her hair and searched her closet for an outfit that didn’t make it look like she was trying too hard; she didn’t need them adding to the cacophony.

When she finally found a blouse and jeans combination that made her look as put together as Karen always seemed to be, Grace glanced over at the clock on her nightstand and realized she needed to leave now if she wanted to make it down to Chelsea in time. She left her rejected clothes spread all along the bedroom floor as she rushed out the door, barely remembering to lock up the apartment on her way out, and made her way to the 1 train. She fidgeted in her seat the entire time and thanked god that the subway car was empty enough that she wasn’t fidgeting against a stranger for nine stops. And by the time she resurfaced on 23rd Street, she was able to calm her body enough to hide the fact that she could not calm her mind. God, maybe this was a mistake. At least when it was Grace playing tour guide, she felt like she had a little control, like she had a leg up. She felt confident she could steer the conversation away from the uncertainty of whatever the hell it was they were doing with each other and hold on to the friendship a little while longer. But now, she was stepping into Karen’s world. Now, she was giving up the little control she had. Now…

Well. Now, she was certain she found the coffee shop without having to check the building number. Because now, she took one glance into the window she found herself in front of and stopped in her tracks at the sight of Karen already seated at a table, already so peacefully in her element.

Grace let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, unable to take her eyes off of the vision in front of her. She just couldn’t get over how stunning Karen was in this moment. One hand wrapped around a coffee mug while the other held a paperback. Wrapped in a faded green flannel even though summer was still hanging onto September by a thread. All of her attention directed at the words on the page (thank god. Grace was certain she wouldn’t be able to live it down if she got caught staring like this). Trying to brush back a lock of her hair that didn’t seem to want to stay behind her ear. Grace wanted to know what it would take to get a glimpse of this all the time. She wanted to know what it would look like to see Karen like this at the dining table in 9C, easing into the day together after Will and Michael have gone and she could have that moment and this woman all to herself. She didn’t care that she was getting a little ahead of herself; right now, looking through the glass, it felt so possible. It seemed almost criminal to barge into this place and ruin the stillness. But she had barely made it here on time as it was. And as much as she wanted this image in front of her to stay intact, she didn’t want to keep Karen waiting longer than she had to.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from the window and walked inside. She tried to steady herself with a sigh before making it to the counter and the animated brunette barista working behind it. She stole a quick glance over at Karen’s table to see the dark haired woman still absorbed in her book, and couldn’t help the smile starting to play across her face as she asked for a latte, nearly losing herself again at the sight and almost missing the cue the barista was giving her.

“Can I get a name for the order?”

“Grace,” she mumbled as she looked through her wallet for the cash. But then she heard a gasp coming from across the counter that made her snap her head up and get a look at the barista, wide-eyed with a gleeful smile growing.

“Oh my god!  _ You’re _ Grace! Of course you’re Grace! God, I should have known.” Grace was too baffled to say anything. Because for all she knew, this woman had the wrong Grace. How else could she explain it? It wasn’t like she had been here before. And even though she hadn’t known Karen for very long, the redhead knew she was someone who opened up slowly, in pieces, once she knew she could trust and not get hurt; so why would Karen tell this woman about her? But the barista looked across the room and started motioning towards Karen’s table excitedly--oh god, they drew her attention away from her book, she was watching the whole thing--saying, “Go sit with your girl, I’ll bring your drink over to you.” And she realized she couldn’t reason away the fact that Karen had been talking about her. She realized not being able to reason it away made her head swim in the best way.

Giving in to the possibility of Karen feeling something for her was one thing. But hearing this barista call Karen her girl? That was indescribable.

Grace whipped herself back into reality, shaking her head when she realized she hadn’t yet paid for her latte. “Sorry, what do I owe you?” she asked, pulling a few bills from her wallet.

The barista waved off her attempt to pay. “You’re a friend of the family, I got you.”

“You can do that?” Grace asked, furrowing her brow.

“Girl, I own the place,” the woman smirked. “I can do whatever I want.”

The redhead let a small laugh escape as she nodded her thanks and made her way to Karen’s table, her laugh growing a little bigger when she saw Karen roll her eyes and make a show out of her embarrassment (real or not, Grace couldn’t tell, she wished she could tell). “I see you’ve met Delia,” the dark haired woman murmured as she slid her bookmark into her paperback.

“I did,” Grace smiled, turning back to take one last look at the woman putting the finishing touches on her latte before she sat down. “She seems fun. I can see why you like it here.” It wasn’t small talk; she hoped Karen could tell how much she meant it. The place felt cozy the second she set foot inside, Delia was friendly even before she realized who Grace was. She was already trying to figure out when they could come back.

“Yeah, well...I guess I have a knack for stumbling upon good places.” Karen studied Grace from across the table for a second. “And good people.”

Maybe it wasn’t her intention to set the redhead on fire with that last bit. But there was something in her eyes that lit the match. And it disarmed Grace until she saw her latte being set down on the table out of the corner of her eye and felt Delia rest her hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t forget to ask Karen for the good stuff,” Delia said before being waved off by Karen. The comment made Grace’s eyes go wide as she watched Karen fish around in her purse.  _ The good stuff? _ What exactly was Karen telling Delia? And how was Delia so comfortable being that playfully suggestive with someone she’s only known for two minutes? Where did she get off…

Karen pulled a flask out of her purse and slid it across the table. “The good stuff,” she sighed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. She just caught me with it a while back and won’t let it go.”

_ “Oh,” _ Grace let out in realization.  _ “That’s _ the good stuff. I thought…” Nope. Don’t finish that. Just splash a little into your drink and be done with it. It could be the kick that settles your nerves. Or it could be the kick that pushes something out. Something like “I didn’t realize I was famous here” with the hint of a smirk at the end.

Karen let out a little laugh over Grace’s quip as she pulled her mug in closer to her. “You don’t think I talk about you?” she asked.

The redhead shrugged as she took a sip of her latte. “I didn’t think I was interesting enough to be talked about.”

“Gracie…” Karen reached across the table to rest her hand over Grace’s, sparking her skin. “Two months ago, I wandered into a place I never meant to be and found someone I think I was always meant to meet.” She gave Grace a smile that lit her eyes up so radiantly. “That’s worth talking about.”

She never heard Karen call her something so personal before. Sure, Grace was the dark haired woman’s “Honey” right from the start, but it didn’t take her long to realize Karen called just about everyone “Honey.” But just now, hearing the genuine way Karen’s unique lilt wrapped itself around “Gracie” in such a perfect fit made the butterflies in her core perk up, impossible to ignore. Karen couldn’t know the way it affected her. So she tried to distract herself with something, anything, the first thing she could lay her eyes on that wasn’t Karen. “So...uh…” Come on, Grace. Say something. “What did I just pull your attention away from?”

“Hmm?” Karen furrowed her brow for a second before following Grace’s eyes to the book on the table. “Oh, this!” She picked the paperback up from the table, started flipping through the pages. Yes, this is good. This is a distraction. This could work. “It’s nothing new. I read it so many years ago, and I found an old copy at that used bookstore on 12th and Broadway. I actually forgot how much I loved it.”

“Would I like it?”

“I think so. What’s great about it is…”

_ Why haven’t you kissed me yet? _ Grace thought to herself. She couldn’t help it. She  _ was _ paying attention to Karen talking about her book, she swore she was. But something about the way Karen moved her lips as she spoke made Grace’s mind wander in spite of itself, made the words fade into the background. And the fact that Karen had been talking to Delia about her made her hopes skyrocket. They had been so close the night they first met, and Grace hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since; it had to be on Karen’s mind too, right? So why hadn’t she kissed her yet?

Karen stopped in the middle of her sentence, tilted her head in question. “What did you say, honey?”

Oh, god. No. She said it out loud. How could she let herself say it out loud? She had done so well in keeping her feelings to herself (okay...as well as she possibly could), it only made sense that she would ruin it eventually by actually saying what she meant. There was no coming back from that. Just pack it in, Grace. It was good while it lasted.

Except...

She could swear she saw the corners of Karen’s mouth turn ever so slightly up just now. Like the dark haired woman was encouraging the sentiment. And maybe she was.

Maybe it was finally time to lean in.

So Grace took a breath, looked Karen right in the eye, let the words come slowly, evenly, as she tried to calm the nerves she knew could never be calmed. “I said...why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

And she waited.

And she hoped she could hear Karen’s eventual response over the racing of her heart, no matter what it was.

* * *

  
There were times when Karen was convinced she was losing her mind. Nearly two months after that night at the club, and it was as if she had dreamt being so close to Grace, she could almost taste her. Neither of them brought it up, although god knew Karen wanted to. The words were on the tip of her tongue so many times, in so many variations, to ease them towards the right direction. Something like  _ What was that song that was playing when… _ or  _ Vodka soda still your drink? _ Or maybe even something straightforward and to the point.  _ If I had kissed you that night, would you have kissed me back? _ But every time she felt those words, something always made her swallow them back down. So they just went on like this, never talking about how they met, pretending like what they were doing was perfectly fine. And if that was the way Grace wanted to play it, then she would play right along with her, if it meant that she got to keep the redhead in her life. She would tell herself to forget all about the way Grace made her head spin better than any buzz she could have gotten from the strongest martini. She would pretend, the way she had all her life for just about everybody she wanted to keep close to her. Because the last thing she wanted was to scare Grace off. 

And the last thing she needed was to fall for a straight girl.

Karen couldn’t quite figure Grace out, and it intrigued her and maddened her all at once. She had lost count of the times it seemed like Grace was trying to tell her where she stood, with accidental touches that didn’t seem so accidental, with the way she looked at Karen every time Karen took a drag off of her cigarette. With the way she spilled everything Karen needed to know about her like she had never trusted anybody in her life before now. And when Grace did start spilling, Karen found herself listening for a name in the sea of men who had wronged the redhead that she could cling to like a life preserver, that could give her hope, that let her know that she had a chance. But that name never came, leaving Karen to continue swimming against a tide that seemed determined to drown her. She knew she needed to take her mind off of it somehow, change course now before she was in too deep and got her heart broken over something that was never going to happen in the first place. She just didn’t realize “somehow” meant sharing her life story with Grace.

Or, at least as much of her life story as she could.

She had always been careful when it came to letting someone in; she picked and chose the parts she didn’t mind becoming public knowledge, twisted her words around so each story didn’t seem nearly as bad as it really was. She left out details she didn’t think anyone else could stomach, like what her mother did to put food on the table and how many times she would use Karen in one of her scams. She was always in control of the narrative; no one needed to know that there was more to the story than what she had given. And even though she would always be on guard, there was something about Grace that made her think it was okay to give up a little bit of that control. Not all of it; she knew she had dug herself into a hole she didn’t yet know how to get out of when they met. But she trusted the redhead, and tried to give as much as she could within reason.

She told Grace about Lois and Gin. But she didn’t tell her that her mother was a con artist, because she didn’t want Grace to think she had somehow inherited that trait.

She told Grace she ran away from home at sixteen and never looked back. But she didn’t tell her why she did it, or how long it took until she found someplace stable to rest her head.

She told Grace that she had been married before. But she didn’t tell her how her first husband started reminding her of the men Lois would bring into their home, or how her second husband slept around without bothering to hide it and how it took her far too long to finally leave him because she hated the thought of being alone again.

She told Grace she had just gotten out of a relationship with a guy named Stan. But she didn’t tell her about his wealth, or his status, or the person he had molded her into. Or about the engagement ring living in a kitchen drawer she couldn’t bear to open again.

Karen thought that maybe these pieces of her life would be enough to make Grace want to keep her distance. But every time she gave away another part of herself, the redhead took it in her hands and cradled it like she was always meant to protect it. Grace didn’t judge when she listened. She didn’t leave. She just took Karen’s hand in hers like she was thankful to get to know her a little better. And every time Grace took her hand, Karen got a little more nervous. Because every time Grace took her hand, she felt waves of electricity coursing through her body. Every time, she felt like she could tell Grace anything and she would hold her a little tighter. Every time, she thought about a future where Grace knew everything and still loved her. Every time, she thought about a future where Grace loved her, full stop.

Every time, she had the sinking realization that she was screwed.

She didn’t want Grace to know the paths her mind took every time they were together. But good lord, she was falling. Falling fast, falling hard. And she didn’t know what she could do about it.

So she took it to the only other person in her life she trusted.

“Oh please, she is  _ so _ into you.” Delia settled into the seat across from her and sipped her coffee with a smirk. It was incredible, the way she would sometimes shrug off her responsibilities at the coffee shop like they were nothing just to talk with Karen, even when the place was packed the way it was this afternoon, letting one of the baristas take over for her for a little while. It was a good thing that she owned the place; Karen couldn’t imagine a scenario where Delia could actually work for anyone besides herself.

Karen’s eyes filled with incredulity as she let out a short, surprised laugh. “How can you possibly know that?” she asked as she watched Delia’s smirk get a little bigger. “You’ve only heard my side of things.”

“Look, there is no way she doesn’t remember that night at the club. Your actual introduction to each other was built off of being  _ this _ close to kissing each other. She wouldn’t be hanging around you if she wanted to forget about that, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be letting you in the way she has been if she didn’t want to be that close to you again.” Delia shrugged as she ran her finger around the rim of her mug. “She’s probably waiting for you to make a move.”

Karen sighed, shifted her gaze to her drink. “Maybe if I knew for sure where I stood…”

“Oh my god, Kare, you’re killing me here.” Karen couldn’t help but crack a smile watching Delia shrink in her seat, her head resting against the table as she groaned. “If you wait until you’re sure, you’re never gonna do it. Come on...isn’t there just a little bit of thrill in the uncertainty?”

“Honey, I think I’ve already had more than my fair share of that kind of thrill. It gets exhausting after a while.”

“Then bring her here,” Delia said in epiphany, lifting her head to reveal the glow of her master plan in her eyes.

“What?” Karen furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Dee…”

“No, I’m serious! You’re the one who said I’m only hearing your side of things. So let me see how she acts around you. Maybe I can catch something that you can’t. And then once it becomes painfully obvious that she wants you, I can...I don’t know...tug on my ear or something when she’s not looking, give you a signal to just go for it already. Or, if I’m completely wrong about her, there can be a signal for that too.” She took a beat, and then, “How do you feel about codewords?”

Karen narrowed her eyes, studying her friend. She could tell Delia was hopeful that her silence meant she was seriously considering it; it almost made her want to draw the silence out for as long as she could. But after a moment, she took a breath. “Delia...what kind of convoluted sitcom bullshit is that?” she asked, devolving into laughter.

“So that’s a no then?” Delia joked, finding Karen’s laughter to be contagious. “Okay, fine, do what you want. Languish in your torment for all I care,” she said with a wink in her voice. “Don’t say I never tried to help.”

“You tried, and I thank you,” Karen sighed as she settled down. “Honey, can we talk about something else? Like how you apparently thought I was going to just slide right past the fact that your ex-girlfriend was hanging around here yesterday?”

“Yeah...I was kinda hoping you  _ would _ slide right past that, at least until I was ready to say something. Look, no judgment, okay? But the other week…”

Karen was paying attention, she swore she was. She caught the bits of Delia’s story that mattered, like how Nadine broke up with what’s-her-name and started calling more often than before. But she couldn’t help the way her mind found its way back to Grace. Because her mind always found its way back to Grace. She wanted no part of Delia’s plan; she wasn’t about to subject the redhead to whatever it was that her friend would do to get the information they both (admittedly) wanted. But in the near two months that Grace had been in her life, it was always Grace who suggested the places they went. Karen knew Grace’s Manhattan like the back of her hand; she was long overdue to show Grace her Manhattan. The only problem was that so far, this coffee shop was all of Karen’s Manhattan, the Manhattan that Stanley couldn’t stake a claim to. She knew that eventually, she would bring Grace here; it was inevitable. She just wasn’t sure if she was ready for Grace to meet Delia.

It was a disaster waiting to happen, she was sure of it. But maybe if she got here first, maybe if she didn’t tell Delia she invited the redhead to join her, she could make sure it wouldn’t get out of hand. Or maybe she was kidding herself.

But she wouldn’t know until Grace set foot in this coffee shop.

A week after Karen shot down Delia’s sitcom scheme, she was seated at her usual table, trying to calm her nerves inside the pages of her book while she waited for Grace to meet her. And it worked for a little while; she was able to lose herself in the world that was resting in her hand, calmed herself with turns of phrase and the occasional hit of caffeine. Until she heard the way Delia’s voice carried from across the shop. Until she heard that excited “Oh my god!  _ You’re _ Grace! Of course you’re Grace!” and everything around her came to a crashing halt. Until she looked up from her book and saw Grace trying to pay for her drink while Delia was taking way too much joy in serving her.

Until Grace glanced her way and their eyes met, and every single part of her came alive.

Karen closed her book and set it to the side, taking a breath to steady herself before Grace could get suspicious. She put on the best front she could under the circumstances, and she seemed to be doing a good job of it. She was getting through the small talk, and she was grateful that Grace threw out a question about her book that she could cling to. This, she could talk about. This wouldn’t show her hand. This wouldn’t open the door for her to say something she couldn’t take back if it turned out that Grace didn’t want it. But just as she was diving into one hell of a distraction, she heard it.

_ Why haven’t you kissed me yet? _

She thought she was hearing things; that had to be it. It spilled from Grace’s lips so softly, and she was so focused on the book that she didn’t witness the words coming out of the redhead’s mouth. It was her own mind playing tricks on her. Making her hear what she wanted to hear, making her question what was real and what wasn’t. This was all a product of her imagination. But still, she stopped herself mid-sentence because she had to ask. “What did you say, honey?”

For a second, Grace seemed as surprised as she was that the words were out there now. Which meant that she said it, it was real, it was out there. Karen couldn’t help the slight smile that started to curl her lips, thinking that maybe Delia had been right this entire time. And when Grace recovered, she doubled down. “I said...why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

It wasn’t often that Karen was at a loss for words; usually, she could throw something at you without even thinking, and it would stick a perfect landing every time. But Grace made her thoughts so tangled sometimes that she was sure she would never be able to straighten them out. And if she was being honest, she never really wanted to straighten them out. “I...I don’t know, honey,” she started, trying so hard not to stumble over her words. “I guess I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”

The redhead started to crack the smallest smile. “But  _ you _ want to?” she asked, her voice small but mighty.

Well. She asked, Karen. Might as well tell her the truth. “Grace, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since we met.” She watched Grace’s smile grow bigger and couldn’t help her own start to play across her face. “Good lord, I would have kissed you at the club if Will hadn’t interrupted. Maybe I should have kissed you anyway. But we never brought it up again, and I just didn’t want to scare you off by trying anything.”

“You won’t scare me off,” Grace murmured, the most encouraging look living in her eyes. “You could never.”

Lord, the way Karen’s heart soared in that moment. This was what she wanted. This was what she kept picturing ever since she mustered the nerve to pick up the phone and call Grace, ever since they started seeing each other every chance they got. And it made her feel weightless. It made her float up out of her chair and lean across the table. It made her lips brush gently against Grace’s, lingering for the way the redhead’s kiss tasted of coffee and promise. It made her start to give in to the weakness in her knees when Grace kissed her back a little deeper, a little longer, with an urgency that she had never felt before. It convinced her that nothing could possibly ruin this moment. Until...

“It’s about damn time!” she heard Delia shout from across the coffee shop. And without breaking the kiss, Karen reached her hand out towards the store counter, middle finger firmly in the air, much to the apparent delight of her giggling friend. But when Grace finally pulled away, Karen saw the light shining in her eyes, and knew that nothing could dim it.

This moment was perfect.

“Whaddya say we get out of here?” Karen said, barely above a whisper, blinded by Grace’s shine. “Find someplace where we won’t have an audience?”

“Take me away,” Grace replied softly, already reaching for her purse. She waited until Karen stood up before she slid her hand inside the dark haired woman’s, waiting to be led out into the Chelsea afternoon. Karen didn’t have a plan past this moment. She had no idea where to go next, what she could pull out of thin air to keep this going. But she felt the way Grace’s touch sent sparks of warmth throughout her body, saw the way her eyes expected nothing more than what they had right now, and she knew that this was all that mattered. So she tugged on Grace’s hand, led her towards the door, paying no mind to Delia’s commentary from behind the counter. She opened the door for the redhead, her eyes adjusting to the sun that started to spill unfiltered into the coffee shop. She felt Grace give her hand a little squeeze as she started to lean against her. She let the butterflies fly wild in her core, wished they would never stop.

And she led them on their way.


	6. Meet Me in the Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cjDKoD8PL0)

_**“My hands are shaking, my heart is beating fast** _   
_**Is love worth making when it can never last?** _   
_**So meet me in the back, don’t make me wait too long** _   
_**Baby, I could change my mind and tell you that it’s wrong** _   
_**So meet me in the back, where the light don’t shine** _   
_**First show me yours, maybe I’ll show you mine”** _

_ September 1994 _

“I need something good, Dee. Something we haven’t done yet.”

Karen sat on top of the coffee shop’s counter, back against the espresso machine as she flicked the ash of her cigarette into the ashtray she made out of the nearest mug. She watched as Delia locked up for the evening and gave the place one last sweep so it would be clean for the morning rush, getting distracted by the way the city was growing darker and darker through the windows. She sighed before taking another drag, losing herself in how peaceful it looked outside, how quiet, barely anyone walking by. She felt an overwhelming sense of calm. That is, until Delia came by, slapping her on the thigh and pulling her out of her tranquility.

“Get your ass off the counter, will ya?” she muttered as she swept in front of the counter. “I just wiped it down.”

Karen nudged her friend’s shoulder and laughed. “What do you want me to do? You already put all the chairs up on the tables.”

Delia stopped to give the shop a once over, taking in the fact that she had effectively wiped out all of her seating and sighed. “Well, fuck,” she exhaled, letting the broom in her hand drop to the floor. “Make some room then.” She jumped up on the other side of the counter, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and the lighter resting between them, and settled in. “You know it’s not gonna matter to her if you take her somewhere new…” She made an exaggerated show of batting her eyes and made her voice sickeningly saccharine before her words got swallowed up in laughter. “Just as long as you’re with her.”

“Good  _ lord, _ you’re annoying sometimes,” Karen joked, giving Delia a light kick. “Come on, get serious! Things are different now. I’ve got to step it up a little bit.” She knew Delia was right; she knew that Grace wouldn’t care what they did, that she would just want that time together. Honestly, that was what Karen wanted, too. And they did keep seeing each other the way they had been. They were occupying Karen’s usual table at the coffee shop more often, they were stopping by all of their usual places. Karen liked all of these places a lot better now that she could hold Grace’s hand knowing that Grace wouldn’t flinch. But now that they had finally crossed the line they had been toeing ever since they met, Karen couldn’t help but think they needed to do something that commemorated it.

Like something resembling an actual date.

“Ooh, you know what you should do?” Delia asked with a gleam in her eye that was brightened by her smirk. “Take her to the girly bar down the street.”

Karen looked at her like she was out of her mind. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Oh, why not? Come on. Maybe it’ll be good for her, being in a room full of like-minded ladies.” Delia shrugged. “Lord knows it helped me when I came out.”

“Or maybe it’ll look like I’m trying to push her into the deep end right away.”

Karen knew there was merit to Delia’s point, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about switching up their bar scene before, so they could be in a space where stealing a kiss from each other didn’t throw them into the minority. But Karen also knew Grace was still trying to figure out how their growing relationship fit into her perception of who she was. Not long after they kissed in the coffee shop, Karen had been walking Grace home after wandering the city when Grace had slipped her arm around Karen’s. Karen had felt the nervousness in Grace’s touch, had felt her heart start to sink while her mind had started to jump to conclusions. And she had only made it worse for herself by getting a glimpse of the way Grace had been unable to look at anything but the ground before she spoke. She had thought that she was going to be let down easy. She had thought she would have to go home and drown the last couple of months in vodka and vermouth. She had started bracing herself, building the mask she would surely have to wear for the rest of their time together.

But then Grace had surprised her.

“You know...this hasn’t really happened to me before,” the redhead had started softly. “Wanting to be with a woman. I...I don’t really know what this means for me yet. I just know that this feels right.” And then she had taken a beat like she was preparing for the last thing in the world she wanted to tell the dark haired woman, like if she said what was on her mind, she would accidentally speak it into reality. “But I’d get it if this isn’t what you thought it was going to be. I’d get it if you wanted to stop.”

Karen was sensitive to what Grace was going through. She didn’t want to put any pressure on the redhead, didn’t want to disrespect her timeline, didn’t want her to think that she needed to label herself right away, if at all. Because she didn’t care about labels; she just cared that Grace trusted her, that Grace wanted her. So in that moment, she had woven her fingers with Grace’s and murmured into her ear, “You really think you can scare me away that easily?” She had hoped her sincerity colored her voice before she had taken a breath. “Honey, I know there’s a lot you’re trying to figure out right now. And I’m not going to rush you. We’ll go as slow as you want to go.” She had taken in the way the weight of Grace brushed against her in that moment, the way Grace relaxed into her like the trust had finally started taking over. “I’ll be here as long as you want me.”

She had known it wouldn’t be the last time they’d go down this road, and she had known that she’d be ready and willing to talk, listen, whatever Grace needed as they kept moving forward. But just knowing that Karen wasn’t going to quit on her had seemed to put Grace at ease for the time being. She had seen the peace that had started to fill Grace’s eyes, had heard the way Grace’s voice softened as she murmured, “So I guess that means you’re going to be here for a while.” And she had been so overwhelmed by it that she couldn’t find her voice; she had only been able to brush a kiss against Grace’s cheek as the redhead sighed against the promise of safety. 

There was no way Karen was going to take that safety away from her.

“Well, what if Nadine and I went too?” Delia offered now. “It might help if she had a couple of extra friendly faces around.”

Karen couldn’t help but get a little playful. “Honey, no offense,” she smirked, “but I don’t think we need to be sitting next to someone who’ll down five beers before singing ‘Come to My Window’ as she cries into her sixth.”

“Oh my god, that was  _ one time. _ I was in my feelings about Nadine.” She let a small smile start to play across her face. “And she who feels nothing for Melissa Etheridge feels nothing at all.” They joked about it now, but Karen vividly remembered that night, when Nadine was still the ex and still supposedly in love with someone else; she remembered how Nadine’s drunken phone call led to Delia’s drunken karaoke session, and how she didn’t feel right leaving her friend alone that night. It was the one thing holding her back from being completely happy for Delia, now that she had gotten back together with her girl; she knew what Nadine could do to her. But Karen tried to pull herself out of the memory as Delia continued.  _ “And _ you wouldn’t be sitting with us. We wouldn’t double. We would just be there as a last resort.” She grabbed the mug from Karen’s hold and flicked her own ash into it. “Look, it’s not like I’m expecting your date to be a catastrophe. But if it does start to go south, we’d be there to help do some damage control. I just want you to be happy, Kare. You deserve this.”

It wasn’t the worst plan in the world; in fact, Karen was hard pressed to think of a better one. But she wasn’t about to spring this on Grace with no warning. “Fine,” she sighed, conceding to the delight of her friend. “I’ll run it by her. But if she seems the slightest bit uncomfortable, we forget about it, okay?” Delia smiled and nodded like she already knew the answer. Karen waved her off like she was crazy.

But she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping her friend was right about this.

The next time she saw Grace, Karen tried to ease her into the idea as best as she could, trying to make it sound casual while opening the door for the redhead to back out if it seemed like it would be too much. She expected  _ That could be interesting… _ with more than a hint of uncertainty. She expected  _ Maybe we could save that for later. _ Hell, part of her was expecting a flat out  _ No. _ So when she heard Grace’s enthusiastic “Sure! Saturday night?” it nearly knocked her to the ground. Because maybe Delia was right after all. Maybe Grace was more eager to explore this piece of her than she thought. Maybe she was overthinking the whole thing. But just in case, she walked into the coffee shop the next afternoon and told Delia she had better be free on Saturday night in case the night started to take a nosedive into disaster, not even giving her a chance to respond before making a bee line for her usual table.

“Just admit that I’m a genius already,” Delia said, her words wrapped in good-natured smugness when she set Karen’s coffee down in front of her.

“Let’s see how the night goes first,” Karen replied, her eyes narrowed but unable to contain the hope radiating from them.

By the time Saturday night rolled around, the nerves finally started to kick in. Karen kept trying to tell herself that it was just Grace, that they had spent so much time together already, that if anything, she should be a little more relaxed now that she finally knew where she stood with the redhead. But Grace had never been just Grace, and no matter how much time they spent together, she quickly realized she would never be fully prepared for the first night out where Grace would truly be her girl, the first night she could touch her without questioning it to death beforehand. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her nervous like this. She never felt it with Stan (although, to be fair, it had been a long time since she felt much of anything with him). She never felt it with her ex-husbands, or the men and women passing through between her marriages. There was no preparing for Grace. But Karen had to admit, she liked the feeling of being blindsided by the one who could change her life. And Grace  _ could _ change her life. In some ways, Grace had already changed her life for the absolute best, to the point where it was getting difficult to remember a time when this wildfire woman wasn’t shining her light for Karen.

Good lord, she didn’t want to fuck this one up.

Karen threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and shrugged into a leather jacket partially meant to keep out the growing September chill and partially meant to (hopefully) set off a spark in the redhead. She started on the short journey from her apartment to the bar, her heart beating a little louder in her chest with each step, her mind trying to keep it together. It was just a bar. It was just a drink. You already got the girl’s attention, Karen. What’s the worry?

Please. She knew the answer long before she asked herself the question. Getting Grace’s attention was one thing. Keeping her attention was something else entirely, something she was scared she wouldn’t be able to do.

But she knew she was about to find out if she could.

When she reached the bar, she saw the handful of women on the sidewalk indulging in a quick smoke break, one of them letting her cigarette burn down to the filter between her fingers while she made out with another. She could hear strains of k.d. lang crooning about how constant craving has always been, getting louder and clearer every time someone opened the door. And she sighed to herself and wondered how she could spin this to look like anything other than the deep end. She was going to kill Delia for suggesting this, for making her think this was a good idea for someone who just started grappling with what it means to be attracted to a woman, for making her want this night at all, for...

Karen’s gaze latched on to a glimpse of wildfire, and she felt every single doubt flee her mind at once. Because there was Grace, leaning against the brick facade, her smile growing wider the moment their eyes met. She didn’t seem fazed by the scene; if anything, Karen could swear she seemed excited. And before she had a chance to truly collect herself, the redhead walked up to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, their bodies pressed together in a way that would have dissolved Karen completely if Grace wasn’t holding on so tightly. She slid her arms around Grace’s waist, her hands resting against the small of her back as she murmured, “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not,” Grace replied, pulling back just enough to study Karen’s features with a sincerity that overwhelmed the dark haired woman. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t keep you waiting.”

When she took her girl’s hand, Karen wondered if Grace realized she would have waited forever if forever led to this moment.

“Shall we?” the redhead smiled, tugging on Karen’s hold as she headed towards the door. Just before the music and the din of the crowd swallowed them up, Karen could swear she heard Grace humming along to the song. As they entered the bar, Grace started to hum a little louder, squeeze Karen’s hand a little tighter, let the eagerness in her eyes truly light her up. And good lord, that shine was blinding. Karen could have basked in it all night if Grace hadn’t pulled her back into reality as she murmured, “I have a good feeling about this place.”

Karen gave the bar a once over on Grace’s cue and instantly felt herself relax as she let out a “Me too, honey.” It was incredible, the way this place was far more manageable than the club they had to weave through the night they first met. There were no waves of dancers on the floor; just a few couples scattered here and there who weren’t technically dancing, simply swaying ever so slightly as they held each other close. There was no DJ blasting beats that made your head spin; just a jukebox in the corner where k.d. could croon for as long as your quarter allowed. There were no disco lights bouncing their frantic rainbows off the walls; just a few overhead lights dimmed just enough to set the right kind of mood. When Karen watched the way her date took it all in, it was almost as if Grace was honestly thriving on the scene. And she started wondering what she had been so nervous about, coming here for a few drinks.

Damn. Maybe Delia  _ was _ a genius.

But of course, the second she thought it, she felt Grace’s words against her ear. Of course, she heard the redhead ask “Isn’t that your friend?” as she pointed towards the bar. Of course, once she followed the path Grace laid out, she found Delia staring back at them, her arm wrapped around Nadine as the smuggest grin played across her face. Of course, despite all of that talk about wanting her to be happy, Delia wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Because it wasn’t in Delia’s nature to let something like this slide.

Of course.

“Should we go hang with them?” Grace asked with a touch of uncertainty.

Well. They’d have to at least make some small talk as they got their drinks (and she knew Delia tried that). But Delia and Nadine were only meant to be a last resort before everything crashed and burned; they weren’t supposed to be Grace’s and Karen’s first stop of the night. Karen wanted to be alone with her. She wanted to get through this night without Delia endlessly probing Grace for information the way Karen was positive she would. But she also knew there was a chance that Grace wanted to go slow, that Grace would want the crutch of another couple to lean on; after all, it was the whole reason Delia and Nadine were here in the first place. And Karen wasn’t about to rip that safety net away. “If you want to,” she said softly, trying to make it seem like it would be okay with her if they did. But she couldn’t help herself from adding, “I don’t think she’d mind it if we wanted to do our own thing, though.”

Grace barely took a second to consider her options before making her decision. “We should say hi. Just to be nice. But then we should try to find an out.” She let her touch linger along the leather of Karen’s jacket sleeves before guiding the dark haired woman’s arms around her waist and smirked. “I’m not really in the mood to share you tonight.”

_ Thank god, _ Karen thought, grateful that Grace’s lips brushed against her own in that moment, keeping the words from spilling out.

Karen rested her hand against the small of Grace’s back as she led her to the bar, the heat of Delia’s gaze on them as Karen tried to get a couple of beers out of the bartender. And she let out an exasperated sigh the second she heard her friend’s voice cut through the music. “Well, well, well,” Delia grinned, the concept of subtlety completely lost on her. “What a surprise. Didn’t think we’d be seeing you here tonight.”

“I hate you,” Karen drew out to Delia under her breath.

“You love me,” Delia muttered back, mimicking Karen’s tone before leaning over the bar to get a look at the redhead. “Hi, Grace.”

“Delia,” Grace nodded as she waved a hello to Nadine. She grabbed the bottle of beer the bartender slid in front of her and clinked it against Karen’s before taking a sip. “I guess Karen wasn’t the only one with this brilliant idea, huh?”

“Some might go so far as to call it a  _ genius _ idea,” Delia smirked, her eyes laser focused on Karen until Karen broke her concentration with a quick kick under the bar. “But listen, you don’t want to spend your night hanging around a couple of old biddies at the bar, do ya?”

“Who are you calling old?” Nadine perked up at the same time Karen protested, “Honey, we’re the same age!” But Delia couldn’t be bothered to respond. Not when she was trying to help Karen out here. Because there  _ was _ help buried somewhere in all of this incessant teasing. There had to be.

Probably. Karen guessed.

“You know, there’s a pool room in the back that you two should check out,” Delia offered, like she could read her friend’s mind. “It’s a little quieter back there. And a  _ lot _ more private.”

Karen didn’t know whether she wanted Delia to shut up or keep going. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought of the pool room. Cripes, it was the  _ first _ thing she thought of. That room was legendary; no one ever went in alone, no one ever went in with the true intention of playing pool, and it always seemed to be empty exactly when you needed it to be (that is, if you believed the stories Delia told about her back room rendezvous, and right now, that was all Karen had to go on). But it also wasn’t like she was going to steer Grace to the back the second they stepped inside the place. You had to work your way up to that. Maybe she’d do it once they had had a few drinks. Or maybe once they had a chance to loosen up a bit.  _ Or _ maybe somewhere down the line, after this date and possibly the next one, when the suggestion would be a little less unseemly.

Or maybe she was overthinking things. Because in the moment after Delia’s suggestion, Karen could feel Grace’s touch through the leather, sliding along her back in a way that somehow felt absentminded and entirely calculated at the same time. It stole her voice as it sent sparks up and down her spine. And it thrilled her to hear Grace take the back room and turn it into their out. “Yeah,” the redhead smirked, her eyes locked on Karen’s like that was going to be any help in finding the words for anything the rest of the night. “Maybe we should make our way back there. What do you say?”

The dark haired woman nodded. And that was enough. She grabbed her beer as Grace paved the way for their exit with a lighthearted “We’ll see you around” and followed her girl deeper into the bar. This seemed too easy, too good to be true. Something had to give. Which was why it wasn’t the slightest bit surprising when Grace came to a stop just in front of the entrance to the pool room and turned to face her.

“You know, I have to confess something.”

Well. There it was. This was exactly what Karen was waiting for, something that pulled the rug out from under her, something that made her land flat on her face in a pile of misunderstanding and embarrassment. But she guessed it could have been worse. They could have been back there already, about to race past the line they had just barely crossed and never look back. Grace could have pulled away from her kiss and left her scrambling to walk back her actions. At least this way, she still had the chance to save some face. She plastered on a smile so the thoughts running through her mind couldn’t break free, and she mustered up the brightest voice she possibly could. “Lay it on me, honey.”

The redhead hesitated for a minute before she took a breath. “I have no idea how to play pool,” she murmured, the look in her eyes like a dare. “But maybe you could teach me some moves?”

In that moment, Karen had never been so glad that Stan made her suffer through those monotonous pool games with that teacup poodle of a friend of his, Beverley Leslie. Stan meant for those games to help her start moving her seamlessly into his circle; for whatever reason, he thought she would be able to get along with Beverley better than the rest. She almost laughed now, thinking about how badly she wanted him to know where all that practice  _ really _ got her. Instead, she took a second to study the redhead standing in front of her and hoped to god she could still play it cool. “I’m sure I can show you a few things,” she drew out, inching slowly towards her date.

“So what are you waiting for?” Grace asked playfully, taking one step backwards and then another in a tease as the sly smile on her lips got a little bigger. “Meet me in the back.” Grace turned on her heel and disappeared into the pool room.

And with that, Karen had no choice but to follow.  


* * *

  
“Would you look at this, Mickey? Baby’s first gay bar, I’m so proud.” Will nestled into Michael’s arms as he watched over Grace getting ready for her date with Karen like a doting parent.

Grace rolled her eyes as she teased her hair one last time in front of the mirror above the fireplace. “What are you talking about?” she scoffed, glaring at him through the reflection. “This is nowhere near my first gay bar.”

“Maybe. But it’s the first gay bar you’re walking into with the distinct possibility of going home with someone.”

Oh. Well. Grace hadn’t thought about it like that.

She had been so fixated on getting to spend more time with Karen that she didn’t care where she got to spend it. She listened as Karen told her exactly what kind of bar it was, the uncertainty in her voice making it seem like she was expecting Grace to say no. But Grace felt safe enough with the dark haired woman to go absolutely anywhere. Plus, if she was being completely honest with herself, it was something of a relief that Karen picked the bar she did. Grace wouldn’t have to worry about being a spectacle in the middle of a sea of heteronormativity when she kissed Karen, when Karen slid her arm around her, when she got a few drinks in and let her hands start to wander. Sure, there was still that lingering thought in the back of her head, the one that kept telling her she was clueless, the one that kept telling her she was going to make a fool of herself for diving deeper into this, even though she knew it was what she wanted. But Karen had always been so good at killing those thoughts without even realizing it. And they could always get out of there if it got to be too much.

Because wasn’t that the plan anyway? The bar was close to the coffee shop. The coffee shop was close to Karen’s apartment. It wouldn’t take much effort to go somewhere a little more private; they both knew that. Grace had wanted to be alone-- _ truly _ alone--with Karen since they met. But she had never done that before. And as much as Karen said she respected everything she was dealing with, Grace couldn’t help but wonder why a woman who seemed so sure of herself wanted to be with a woman who had no earthly idea what she was doing. It made her nervous. It made her feel ridiculous for being nervous. It made her want to get Karen to kill those thoughts again. But she didn’t want Karen to know what a mess she was.

Shit. She was already in full disaster mode before she had even reached the bar. Maybe she should just forget the whole thing, call Karen before she left and say she was sick.

“Come on, give her a break,” Michael scolded his boyfriend with the hint of a laugh in his voice, bringing Grace back into reality. “You’re freaking her out.”

“No, he’s not,” Grace shot back with a knee jerk defiance. Even though he kind of was. Even though she knew Will could see it in her eyes when she looked at him through the mirror again. 

Will immediately softened and moved towards his best friend, resting a hand on each of her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, sincerity overflowing. “You’re gonna be fine. Seriously.”

“You think?” she asked, completely unconvinced.

_ “Yes. _ Sweetie...I know this is all new and overwhelming. But you already got through one of the hardest parts: you let yourself own it, falling for a girl.” He offered her a comforting smile through the mirror as she started to relax against him. “I wasn’t joking about being proud of you, you know. And I’m sorry if I haven’t been as sensitive to this as you need me to be. I guess part of me figured if I kept it light, it wouldn’t seem so terrifying. But I don’t know what I was so worried about; you already have a much better handle on it than I ever did.”

Grace couldn’t help herself. She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and felt the way her lips started to curl into a smile. “I mean, I haven’t panic proposed to anyone yet, so I guess that’s a leg up…”

Will’s laughter was contagious. “See what I mean? A much better handle.” This was good. This was helping her loosen up. This was... “Bottom line: you’re a brave one, Gracie. I need you to know that.”

This was going to destroy her after all.

She hadn’t really talked any of this through with Will in the time she had known Karen, even though she desperately wanted to. It wasn’t like she felt alone in this; she knew she wasn’t. She just wanted to talk about all the things that made her head spin with someone who knew how dizzy it all could make you. But Will’s approach started to convince her that she was making too much out of it, that it wasn’t as big of a deal as she kept thinking it was. She was so relieved that he opened the door for them to talk this through; she just wished he hadn’t opened it two minutes before she was supposed to leave to meet Karen.

She turned around to face him, already feeling the lump in her throat. “If you make me cry my makeup off, I’m going to kill you.”

Will’s smile got a little bigger. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. For now.” He held her out at arm’s length and studied her for a moment. “Relax. You look great. She likes you. You have nothing to worry about. So let yourself enjoy it.” And as Michael wished her luck tonight, Will kissed her cheek and gave her hair one last fluff before he let her go.

“I’ll see you later,” she said as she made her exit.

“We want you home by curfew, missy!” Michael called out as the door shut behind her, making her forget her nerves for a brief, brilliant moment as she laughed.

But like clockwork, the nerves kicked into overdrive the second she made it to the subway, and they wouldn’t let up.

Nine stops downtown. Obsessively checking which station she was in every time the train slowed down, even though she knew she was keeping perfect track in her head. Losing her breath on the way up the subway stairs, knowing it wasn’t the journey back to the surface that winded her. Hearing her heart pounding in her ears like a frantic metronome as she got closer and closer, drowning out everything around her when she finally reached the bar and took in the atmosphere. Being two seconds away from bolting before her eyes caught the image of a dark haired woman coming closer to her. Holding her breath when she realized it was Karen. Letting it out the second their eyes met. Feeling so much better now that she was here. It was a rollercoaster ride she didn’t realize she loved until it had slowed to a stop; it was an exhilaration she wanted to feel all the time.

If this was how it was before they even made it inside the bar, she couldn’t wait to find out what it was like once the date actually started.

As soon as Karen came into view--Grace wasn’t sure where that leather jacket had come from, but good  _ god, _ she wished it wouldn’t ever go away--she could feel herself finally opening up to her surroundings, hearing the din of the crowd outside compete with the din of the crowd inside compete with the music rising above all of it. She felt herself drawn towards Karen, a magnetic pull landing her in the dark haired woman’s arms as she found herself humming along to the strains of the song playing inside the bar. And she found herself thinking that Will was absolutely right; she  _ was _ going to be fine. She had done this a million times before, meeting Karen for a drink, making the hours pass by like they were nothing, feeling like they were the only two women on the planet. Except this time, they actually knew where they stood with each other. This time, they could have a little more fun if they wanted to. And if Grace was being completely honest with herself, she absolutely wanted to.

She felt Karen take her hand as they headed towards the bar, couldn’t help brushing against the leather of Karen’s jacket to take in the way it moved against the bare skin of her arm. And once they stepped through the door, she was relieved to find out that unlike the club where they first met, she would actually be able to breathe in here (although, to be fair, it was nice to have an excuse to get a little air and get a lot closer to Karen. Then again, she didn’t really need an excuse to get closer to Karen anymore). She felt herself relax against her girl, the crowd and the music and the atmosphere making her feel safer than she admittedly ever had before on a first date. The feel of the scene definitely helped in this, she knew, but she was positive that her safety lied in the way Karen carried herself. She always seemed so self-assured when she moved, it made Grace feel good about taking those steps into the unknown; she was certain that as long as Karen showed her the way, she wouldn’t get lost. But it was more than that, too. Karen cared more than anyone before her had, even before Danny had set the bar so low, it was now buried underground. She made an effort. She didn’t push, she asked questions. She checked in, she...

She brought along backup?

As Grace scanned the bar, she saw the coffee shop owner, the one Karen was friends with, grinning uncontrollably at the bar, an arm around who Grace could only assume was the girlfriend Karen had always been wary of (Grace heard the stories, and couldn’t help but agree with her). And she started smiling to herself. She knew that move. She’s pulled that move, making Will and Michael “coincidentally” have dinner in the same spot she was meeting her date, in case everything was a disaster and she needed an easy out. And she couldn’t believe that Karen was nervous enough to pull this move, too. It was endearing, really. Karen always seemed so confident in just about everything Grace had seen her do, and it was hard to picture her worrying about something as simple as taking the redhead to a bar. But she liked that Karen did. She liked that it was just more proof of how much Karen cared. She liked knowing that they were on a more level playing field than she thought they were.

She liked that she had that kind of effect on Karen. But she wasn’t about to spend her evening stuck in conversation with these two, unable to find a window to slip away so they could truly get this date started. So by the time Delia suggested the pool room, Grace was all too eager to pull Karen towards the back of the bar, away from prying eyes. It made her get a little more comfortable in her skin, comfortable enough to start flirting, comfortable enough to play, to ask Karen to teach her a game she never paid much mind to before because she knew it would mean that Karen would have to get up close, body against body, skin against skin. And if Karen was surprised that Grace had taken the reins, she didn’t show it; she acted like she wanted to play along, wanted to go wherever Grace led her. Grace just wanted to lead her somewhere good.

She couldn’t believe their luck when she walked into the pool room only to find it completely empty. “Delia wasn’t kidding about this being more private,” she murmured as Karen walked in behind her. She studied Karen as her smile sparked the light in her eyes; her breath hitched as she realized that the only thing hotter than the sight of Karen in that leather jacket was watching her take it off. The dark haired woman tossed it to the side and set her drink on the ledge so she could rack up the balls on the pool table. And it took everything Grace had to pull her focus from the vision in front of her and shift it to the cue rack in the corner, moving to grab a couple for them to use. She saw the way the dust had collected on the rack and wondered how long it had been since someone used this room for its intended purpose (then again, was pool  _ ever _ the intended purpose?). But as she handed a cue off to Karen, Grace saw the playful look in her eyes and realized just how little she cared about the game they were getting ready to play.

“Alright, honey…” Karen murmured, her fingers brushing against Grace’s as she took the cue from her date’s grasp, “let me break, and then I’ll show you what to do.”

Karen knew she was putting on a show. She had to; it was in the way she moved. She was obviously more relaxed now that she realized she didn’t need Delia and Nadine to come to her aid anytime soon, if the way she swung her hips as she walked to the end of the table meant anything (god, right now it meant everything). Karen bent over her cue to line up the shot, arching herself in a way that let Grace’s eyes travel every inch of the dark haired woman’s curves, that let Grace’s mind wander as her t-shirt started to ride up her back. She could see Karen smile without losing her focus on the table and she wondered if it was because she could feel Grace studying her.

She hoped it was.

Grace startled at the one-two sound of Karen’s stick hitting the cue ball and the cue ball making everything else scatter across the table, thrilling at the way her date controlled her shot like it was nothing. “Devil,” Karen muttered under her breath, face scrunched up in disappointment when she realized she hadn’t sunk a shot. But Grace didn’t have time to revel in the way that look endeared the dark haired woman to her more than she already was; she was being summoned to take her turn. “Don’t be shy,” Karen murmured as she rested her stick against the wall. “You’ll be fine.” She held her hand out for Grace to take just as the music in the main room switched over, the driving bass line and pounding drums of The Breeders spilling into their space and pushing the redhead to follow through with the thoughts floating around in her mind.

Grace felt her grip on her cue tighten and the butterflies in her core start to wake up as she slipped her hand into Karen’s. “Okay…” she conceded. “But don’t make fun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey.” Karen gave Grace’s hand a little squeeze as she led her to the left side of the pool table. “Okay, you see that one over there?” She pointed to the striped 14 ball across the table, resting at the edge of the side pocket. “That one’s your best bet.”

The butterflies in Grace’s core started fluttering faster as she tried to mirror Karen’s stance at the table, bending over her stick as she tried to line it up with the cue ball. “Like this?” she asked, hoping she got it at least a little bit wrong.

“Well...kind of.” She could feel Karen’s eyes traveling along her body and nearly melted under the heat of her gaze. “Here, let me show you.”

And then she got exactly what she had been wishing for.

Karen let her fingers travel down the redhead’s spine slowly, setting fireworks off along the way, before coming to rest at the small of her back. “Loosen yourself up a bit, Gracie,” she murmured, as if that were at all possible for Grace to do. Somehow, she was able to relax her stance against Karen’s palm, allowing the dark haired woman to hover over her, enveloping her, trying to help her line up the perfect shot. She let out a sigh as she took in the warmth of Karen’s body against hers that she thought would be inaudible over the din of the crowd mixing with the music as it crashed into its chorus and led a group of women somewhere in the main room--the ones who queued it up in the jukebox, probably--to shout-sing the lyrics. But something in the way Karen’s touch changed let her know that the dark haired woman heard her perfectly. “There’s my girl,” Karen smirked as she let her hand brush along Grace’s grip on the stick and close around it, making the redhead weaken at the knees. “You’re just riding this a little too high.” She gently pulled Grace’s hand down closer to the base of the stick, her touch lingering long after they landed in the sweet spot. Grace could feel those butterflies in her core work their way into a frenzy, and she knew that it wouldn’t be long before she had to do something about it. But before she could let her mind wander like that, she felt Karen’s words vibrate against her ear, commanding her attention.

“There,” Karen said, her voice husky, her breath hot against Grace’s skin. “Does that feel good?”

Jesus. She actually expected Grace to be able to speak right now?

Grace took a breath as she nodded, trying to buy herself a few seconds to find her voice. “Um...y-yeah,” she fumbled softly before she turned her head to the side so she could look Karen directly in the eye, and let her see just how much she was affecting her. “It feels really good.”

She could see the way Karen registered the charge in her eyes. She could see the way her features changed, the way they became tinged with intent. She could tell exactly where this was headed. And she wanted to go there as soon as she possibly could. “Good,” Karen said, the spark in her hazel eyes lighting into a flame. “Then take your best shot.”

Karen let go and took a step to the side to watch Grace take her turn. The redhead knew this was going to take concentration and control if she wanted to knock the ball into the pocket. But if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t care less about playing this game; she just wanted to hit the ball and get it over with, so she could have Karen wrapped around her again. Without a second thought, she slammed her stick into the cue ball, watching it knock the striped 14 into the pocket before bouncing off the side of the table. She couldn’t help smiling at her small victory, couldn’t help smiling wider over Karen’s delighted breathless laughter coming from her right.

“Well, would ya look at that?” Karen sighed, her touch returning to the small of Grace’s back in a magnetic pull. “You’re a natural.”

Grace rested her cue stick against the table and turned around to face her, feeling the way Karen’s hand slid to her hip as she moved without ever once leaving her body, like the dark haired woman refused to have an inch of space between them. She wrapped her arms around Karen’s shoulders, resting her forehead against her girl’s as she felt Karen’s hold surround her. “I learned from the best,” she murmured before giving in to her desires and brushing her lips against Karen’s. Quickly, pulling away before she really wanted to, just on the off chance she had the absolute wrong idea about where this game was truly headed.

Luckily, Karen kissed back with such intensity, she drove away any and all doubt.

Grace hadn’t been prepared for it, clinging to Karen for dear life as her lips sent electricity all throughout the redhead’s body. It made her tremble with anticipation; it made her thank god that Karen had the foresight to lift her onto the edge of the pool table so she wouldn’t have to keep standing. Even though they had only been together for a short time, she thought she knew what Karen’s kiss tasted like in all of its variations--the quick hello that tasted of smoke from the cigarette Karen lit up when she was waiting for Grace to arrive, the soft and sweet interludes at the coffee shop that tasted of dark roast and smuggled Bailey’s, the deeper kisses that tasted of the future--nothing could have prepared her for what this kiss tasted like. There was an urgency in it she never experienced before, an urgency she reciprocated in a way she never had before. And she quickly learned that she couldn’t get enough. She locked her legs around Karen’s waist to bring her closer and sighed over Karen’s touch crawling up her thighs; she couldn’t get over the way it felt, careful yet searing, like Karen was somehow respecting all of her boundaries while crashing through them at the same time. She could hear the music get as frenetic as the waves in her core and knew that it wouldn’t take much to send her off the edge; she just wasn’t expecting it to be the way Karen pressed a kiss to her neck before murmuring the lyrics to the song against her skin like it was her own declaration:  _ “I’ll be your whatever you want.” _

And just like that, she took her swan dive.

Good  _ god, _ this was heaven. Being touched by someone who seemed to know exactly what you wanted. Being touched by someone who wanted to thrill you. It was crazy how long she had gone without this. It made her want to give herself up to it all.

It made her wonder what the hell she was so nervous about before.

“Come up here,” Grace murmured as she reluctantly pulled away, wriggling her body further onto the table.

Karen arched her brow. “You sure?” she asked, making a hesitant move closer.

Grace let a sly smile start to play across her face. “Positive,” she said, feeling her heart quicken as she watched Karen’s lips curl to match hers.

Karen climbed up onto the table, letting out a low  _ “Mmm…” _ as Grace grabbed onto her t-shirt and pulled her on top of her, trying to push any stray balls into their nearest pocket on her way down. As soon as their lips met, her hand dropped to Grace’s waist, playing along the bottom of her shirt before sliding underneath the fabric. The sensation made Grace gasp, unable to control her surprise over how incredible it felt. But then Karen froze against her skin, and she knew what her date had taken her reaction to mean. “Too far?” Karen asked, the concern in her voice making her even more irresistible than she already was. She started to pull her hand out from underneath Grace’s shirt when the redhead grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her.

“Don’t,” Grace pleaded. “I like the way you feel.”

Karen let her touch be guided by Grace, sliding deeper underneath her shirt, making Grace close her eyes to take it all in. So maybe it wasn’t exactly the way she pictured this moment when she thought about it (and she thought about it a lot). Maybe they hadn’t had a chance to go back to Karen’s place, maybe she hadn’t gotten to invite Karen back to 9C. Maybe they both let that desire overtake them a little too quickly. But this, right now, was perfect. Until...

“Whoa,” Grace heard someone call out. In an instant, she felt Karen pull herself away and propped herself up on her elbows to find a couple standing in the doorway, smirking at the scene they just stumbled upon. “Sorry, guys,” one of them laughed. “We didn’t realize anyone was in here.” She slid her arm around the other’s shoulders and started leading her out of the room. “We’ll come back later.” And as quickly as they came, they went.

Grace kept her eyes on the doorway, stunned that anyone had tried to intrude, stunned that anyone was out there at all; she had been so invested in Karen that she had forgotten they were in public. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Karen studying her features, and she turned her gaze to the woman who was still straddling her on the pool table. “You’re pretty cute when you blush, honey,” Karen said softly, running her finger along Grace’s cheek.

Dammit. She didn’t want Karen to get the wrong idea. “I’m not embarrassed by what we were doing, you know,” she said quickly. “I just...wasn’t expecting an audience.” She couldn’t contain her smile at that. Of course it was her luck that someone crashed their party. If it were anyone else on top of her, she probably would have been upset. But this was Karen; she was so sure that there would be another time for them that any upset feelings gave way to the humor of it all.

As if Karen could read her mind, she smirked and said, “I guess it’s just as well. I think we deserve more than a pool table and bad lighting for what we were about to do.” She pushed herself off of the redhead and down from the table, holding out her hand when she stuck her landing. “So why don’t I buy our next round instead?”

Grace slipped her hand in Karen’s and let the dark haired woman help her off of the table. “I won’t say no to that,” she murmured.

They left the pool room hand in hand, weaving their way through the crowd until they found Delia staring back at them from the bar with the most overwhelming look of glee in her eyes (god, was she just watching the back room and waiting for them this whole time? How did she know they were coming back out?). She could hear Karen sigh next to her, bracing herself for whatever her friend had in store for them as they reached the bar and tried to flag down the bartender. Grace had to give it to Delia though; at least she waited until Karen ordered their beers before she dove in.

“So,” Delia drew out, already having way too much fun teasing them, “who won?”

Grace looked at her date for a moment, saw the way Karen’s lips were still a little bit swollen from her kiss, and felt her fingers fly up to her own as she smiled. “We both did,” she said, her smile growing wider when she saw Karen’s eyes light up at the response.

“Atta girl,” Delia laughed as Karen slapped her arm and rolled her eyes.

“You can have more than one winner?” Nadine asked with a furrowed brow. Bless her. She actually thought they were playing pool.

“Uhh, you can if you play in the back room,” Delia smirked as she tightened her hold on her girlfriend and leaned in. “Come on...remember last week when I took you back there and we…” She pressed her lips to Nadine’s ear, whispering the best part and making her girl blush.

“Oh, yeah,” Nadine giggled. “How could I forget?”

Karen grabbed her change from the bar and slid Grace’s beer in front of her. “How’s about a dance?” she asked, holding out the quarters she got out of their latest round in an obvious attempt to get away from her friends. “You pick the song.”

Grace moved in a little closer to her date. “Sounds great,” she murmured, letting her fingers brush against the coins in Karen’s palm.

The dark haired woman leaned in like she was about to press the sweetest kiss to Grace’s lips. But just as Grace started to close her eyes, she felt her girl start to pull away. “Oh, cripes,” she muttered. Grace jerked back in surprise, thinking that maybe she had done something wrong (but what was wrong about wanting to kiss her,  _ especially _ after what they had done in the back room?). But then she followed the trail of Karen’s sightline in relief to find a couple at the other end of the bar, deep in a heated exchange complete with steady tears and emphatic gestures. “They’re at it again.”

“So, what else is new?” Delia shrugged when she turned around to look.

The couple that caught their attention didn’t seem to be aware of anything around them as they whipped their arms around in the heat of the moment, nearly hitting the women closest to them who were only trying to get their drinks freshened up; Grace had never seen anybody fight so passionately before. It was stunning, really, almost impressive. Thinking back on every time she had fought with Danny--on every time she had fought with any one of the losers she wasted her time on--it always seemed like Grace was the only one who was invested in finding any kind of resolution; no one on the other end of it ever seemed to care. But these women...these women were wiping away each other’s tears as they were reloading their ammo. They were determined to make it through this together, no matter how heated it got. They made it look like Danny never put any effort into their relationship (and honestly, when she thought about it, he hadn’t).

It was strange, looking at this scene and thinking about how much they must truly care about each other. Looking at this scene and wondering what it would be like the first time she fought with Karen (although she hated to even entertain the thought), hoping that she would fight for Grace as much as Grace would fight for her, thinking that if the passion they showed for each other in the back translated, she could bet that Karen would.

Also hoping that she wouldn’t have to find out for a long time.

“We better hurry, honey,” Karen sighed in Grace’s ear, pulling her back into reality. “Before those two decide they’re relating a little too hard to Tracy Chapman and take a fast car straight to the jukebox.”

Grace wasn’t sure how to respond to that; it may have been her first time here, but she didn’t really get a cry-in-your-beer vibe from this place (she  _ did _ remember Karen mentioning bearing witness to Delia’s teary Melissa Etheridge impression one night, but she figured that was just the anomaly). So she started laughing quietly, with uncertainty, waiting for someone to let her in on the joke.

“Oh, she’s not joking,” Delia chimed in. “They do this, like, every week. If you don’t act now, they’re going to bring the whole place down with them in about three minutes.”

“So I guess we should move then,” Grace suggested, finding it hard to take her eyes off of the couple even as Karen was tugging at her hand to lead her to the jukebox, trying to stop wishing the music wasn’t masking whatever it was the woman on the left was shouting at the woman on the right. She tried to shake the thought out of her head, focused on finding a few good tracks on the jukebox while she dug deep into her pocket. “How many quarters have you got?” she asked Karen.

“Why?”

“Well, if they’re gonna take this thing over eventually, the least we can do is give ourselves a buffer before all the depressing songs start.” The redhead grinned as pulled her hand out of her jeans pocket, giving a little “Ha!” when she opened her palm to produce a couple more quarters.

Karen’s laugh felt so warm as it wrapped around her. “I like the way you think,” she murmured, brushing Grace’s wildfire locks to the side so she could press a kiss to her cheek.

Side by side, they crafted the perfect playlist together before Karen slid her hand in Grace’s and led her to a spot where they could sway with each other and not get in anyone else’s way. She felt Karen’s touch wrap around to the small of her back and pressed herself closer to her date. She let one hand brush against the nape of Karen’s neck as the other held her beer bottle, moving in time to the first song they landed on. She liked this; if they couldn’t have the heat of the pool room without being interrupted, at least they could have this, the way she fit perfectly inside Karen’s arms, the way they moved so seamlessly together. It was like they were always meant to have this. It made her confident that they were always going to have this. It made her bold enough to start saying what was on her mind.

“We’re not going to be like that, you know,” she murmured, nodding towards the couple at the bar. “Whatever drama’s going on over there. We’re not going to destroy each other like that.”

Karen’s features softened as she gave a hesitant smile. “That’s one hell of a declaration for a first date, Grace,” she said quietly, barely above the music. “You don’t know what’s going to happen down the road.”

It was her past that was keeping her from believing Grace; it had to be. And Grace didn’t blame her, based on the things Karen had been willing to share with her about where she came from, about what led her here. Hell, Grace would be lying if she said she didn’t think about Danny from time to time and wonder what she could do to keep Karen as far away from the path she took with him as possible. But she couldn’t help being a little more optimistic that she and Karen could do better than what had been done in the past. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But I think we have a chance as long as we keep doing what we’ve been doing. Being open and honest. We’re off to a pretty good start.”

Grace could swear she felt her girl tense up a little bit at that. And she wondered what the ones who came before her did to Karen to make her lose faith like that.

She knew that if she kept talking the way she had been, if she kept trying to reassure Karen that they were going to be fine, it would very quickly have the opposite effect. So instead, she tried to keep track of the playlist they had just created and let out an undetectable sigh of relief when Karen relaxed enough to laugh and remind her which song was coming next (“Gracie, we didn’t even pick that one,” Karen eventually giggled when the redhead pulled a random song title out of thin air, looking back at the jukebox and murmuring, “Well, devil, we can’t go back for it now” when she found one of the arguing women standing in front of it, no doubt searching for Tracy Chapman). She stopped herself before she could say too much and ruin this moment by drowning them in sentiment, and she basked in the way Karen’s body felt against hers as they danced.

But she wanted to tell Karen that they  _ would _ be fine, and she would see it soon enough. She wanted to tell Karen that she would have danced to anything--to fast cars, to constant cravings, to Karen being her whatever she wanted--as long as it meant that she got to stay here in the dark haired woman’s arms for as long as she possibly could. She wanted to tell Karen that she wasn’t here to hurt her; she was here to be the one who broke the cycle. She wanted to tell Karen that even though they hadn’t been in each other’s lives for that long, she knew that this was where they were both supposed to be.

She could wait, though; she could carry these words for a little while longer. Because there would be plenty of time for her to say them. Of that, she was certain.


	7. Suede

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics to Randy Newman's "Marie" appear in italics in the story; otherwise, the words are mine.
> 
> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aovIJ0mFWo)

_**“Just like the marks on my guitar** _   
_**Just like the scratches on my heart** _   
_**Some things ain’t ever gonna fade** _   
_**I’ll never get back all those years** _   
_**But now I’m taking back those tears** _   
_**Tonight, I’m falling into suede”** _

_ October 1994 _

The first time Karen told her she had an eye for design, Grace thought she was joking. It wasn’t like Karen was in the dark about what she did for a living; it just felt like the firm she worked for was slowly but surely draining her of her creativity, and she knew she wasn’t giving all that she could give. She second guessed every choice she made, she became more self-conscious about her work than she ever had before. She didn’t want anyone she knew to sneak a peek at her portfolio because she knew they would be disappointed, and she didn’t want to sit there while they tried to cover it up with a smile and some empty praise. But she gave the firm what it wanted for its clients, and wasn’t that all that mattered?

She didn’t want to pull Karen into that mess. But then they were in the coffee shop at their usual table when Delia set their drinks down along with the desire to shake things up a bit. “The whole earth tone thing is getting a little old,” she said as she looked around her shop.

“It wouldn’t take much, really,” Grace replied out of reflex. “Just a couple pops of color.”

“What, like painting the walls?”

“Well...maybe an accent wall or something. But I meant more like updating the seating. You know, that whole mismatched look?” Once she launched into her spiel about how it took an extremely calculated scheme to make it look that harmoniously random and started showing Delia what kind of chairs could go where, she had gotten so invested in a plan that probably wasn’t going to happen anyway--and even if it did, it wasn’t like she could just go rogue and do a paying gig herself--that she didn’t notice the way Karen was watching her in awe. And by the time she  _ did _ register Karen’s stare, she blushed and tried to walk back her enthusiasm. “It’s just something to think about,” she murmured, waving it off like it was nothing, watching Delia consider it before making her way back behind the counter. But her girl could not let it go.

“Honey, you just pulled that out of thin air,” Karen exclaimed, her stunned smile growing wider.

“Eh, it wasn’t that great,” Grace mumbled into her latte, ready to forget the whole thing.

But Karen sighed and started running her fingers through the flames of Grace’s hair. “You really need to stop selling yourself short, Gracie. I mean, come on, you just created such a bright and fun version of this place, and you didn’t even have to think about it. You’ve got talent.”

Such a simple, easy statement when it spilled from Karen’s lips, but Grace was rendered speechless. It wasn’t like the redhead couldn’t take a compliment (please, she thrived on them) but when she heard it in Karen’s lilt, it felt like more than just lip service. But even if Karen could believe in what she said, Grace couldn’t. So she brushed it off, steered the conversation in another direction, and forgot about it.

The second time Karen said it, it was because Grace tried and failed to call her bluff. By now, Grace had gotten used to the frustrating and hopeless days at work. But one day, once round after round of mandated edits had turned a living room sketch she had once been unusually proud of into something she couldn’t even recognize as her own, the frustration and hopelessness became too much. All she wanted was to hear Karen’s voice.

Thankfully, Karen picked up on the first ring.

The next thing she knew, her girl was waiting outside of her office with a lily in hand as a pick-me-up, ready to treat her to lunch. Grace wanted to cry at the sight; she couldn’t tell whether it was from the overwhelming relief of seeing the dark haired woman, or from the fact that she couldn’t remember when she told Karen that lilies were her favorite flower, but Karen sure did. They settled into an Italian restaurant around the corner where she didn’t mean to start venting her frustrations the second they sat down. But by the time the bottle of Cabernet came to their table, she had already unloaded everything on Karen. And by the time the waiter poured their first glass, she realized what she had done. She tried to apologize as Karen waved her off with that warm-hearted, breathless laugh of hers that had instantly become one of Grace’s favorite sounds. “Don’t be sorry, honey,” Karen said as she watched Grace take a swig from her glass. “Why do you think I pulled you out of there?”

“I know. And I don’t mean to spend the whole time complaining about my job. It’s just...look at this. Look at what they want me to take credit for.” She fished around in her bag until she pulled out her sketchbook, flipped it open to the design in question, and slid it across the table. “It’s just lifeless, isn’t it? I mean, I was in the meetings. I asked our client the right questions, so I could personalize it to their style in ways they probably wouldn’t have even thought of. I was going to give them a space they would never want to leave. God…” she shook her head. “If I were them, I wouldn’t be able to run away fast enough from this.” She grabbed her glass and focused her gaze on the wine still swimming inside of it before downing it like a shot.

“Oh my god, Grace.” The shock in Karen’s voice was overwhelming.

The redhead threw her face into her hands and sighed. “I know, it’s horrible, it’s--”

“It’s  _ spectacular.” _

“What?!” Grace jerked her head back up to find that Karen was no longer studying the design she had been venting about, but something a few pages back, a bedroom she had just been doodling to de-stress, experimenting in shades of blue in the hopes that it would calm her. “Oh, that? That’s nothing,” she mumbled.

But Karen went on as if she didn’t hear her. “Honey, it was one thing to hear you talk about livening up the coffee shop, but to actually see what you can do…good lord.” She let a smirk start to play across her face. “I’m thinking you might have to decorate my apartment.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile. “You trust me enough to do that?”

Karen flipped the sketchbook over so that the redhead could see her own work reflected back at her (okay...she had to admit, that bedroom was pretty fabulous). “Look at this. Look at what you’re capable of,” she murmured. “I wholeheartedly trust you to do that.” The way she said it, it felt like the truth. And Grace couldn’t help but believe her.

It wasn’t until the third time Karen said it that she decided she was finally going to own it.

A week after Karen took her to lunch, they were in the bar they went to on their first date--a spot that quickly turned into one of their regular haunts, now that Karen realized she didn’t need to bring backup--when the dark haired woman smirked against the sounds of the corner table harmonizing badly to the Indigo Girls and leaned in a little closer to Grace’s ear. “You know, I wasn’t kidding about you decorating my place,” she said once the noise died down a bit.

They hadn’t talked about it since Karen saw her sketches; honestly, Grace thought she had just forgotten she said anything about it (or--though she didn’t want to be true--maybe Karen didn’t really mean it, had just said it to make her feel better and hoped that in a few days, the sentiment would fade into nothing). But the fact that Karen brought it up again perked her up, made her a little playful. She drew out the last sip from her beer bottle and sighed. “I can’t design something without seeing the space first,” she teased, “so when are you gonna invite me in?”

Karen’s smile grew wider, sparking a light that brightened the bar. She picked up Grace’s bottle, shaking it to see that it was empty before doing the same to her own. “Well…how about now?” she asked before throwing a look at the corner table. “Whaddya say we have a nightcap somewhere a little more quiet?”

Grace pushed past the butterflies that kicked into overdrive and hoped her voice didn’t reveal her nerves when she said, “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t that Grace was expecting anything to happen (although, if she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t out of the question, either); it was that Karen was letting her into such an intimate space without thinking twice. It was that Karen trusted her. It was that Karen wanted her there as much as she wanted to be there. On the short walk to the apartment, she could hear her girl warning her that there wasn’t much to her apartment, that she would have her work cut out for her, but the promise of getting one more piece to Karen’s puzzle nearly drowned everything else out by the time they got to the dark haired woman’s door.

She just didn’t realize that puzzle piece would be all but blank.

Karen opened the door to bare walls and basic furniture before she laughed and let out a sarcastic “Ta-da,” grabbing the martini shaker off of her kitchen counter. As she went to work on their nightcap, Grace took in her surroundings--or lack thereof--and tried to figure out how someone so vibrant could live someplace so bare. “When did you move here again?” she asked, thinking that had to be it. Karen had been staying with a friend until she found an apartment (Delia maybe?), and she was just now starting to settle into her own home. She was sure of it. It had to be.

It wasn’t even close.

“Oh, uh…” Karen furrowed her brow, thinking back. “June, maybe? A few weeks before I met you.”

Grace tried to hide her wide-eyed surprise and knew she was failing. Four months, and this woman had yet to make her mark on this place? It just didn’t feel right; Karen deserved so much better than this. “So why haven’t you decorated yet?”

Her girl shrugged like whatever her answer was wasn’t a big deal. “I guess I always assumed this place was going to be temporary. I never pictured myself staying here too long.”

“How come?”

“Because that’s the way it works, isn’t it? Everything is temporary. People either uproot you, or they leave. At least, that’s always been my experience. It just makes sense to make it easy on yourself to move on.”

Karen said it so simply, like it was just a fact of life that could never be changed. Like she had no idea Grace wanted to be the one who changed it. “But you want me to decorate the apartment anyway?” Grace asked, not quite getting why she wanted to plant roots when she was expecting to make a getaway somewhere down the line.

“Well, yeah…” Karen smiled as she poured their drinks. “I finally have a reason to want to stick around for a while.” When her eyes met Grace’s, the redhead was floored by how genuine they were. It stole her voice for a moment as Karen moved closer to her, a martini in each hand, and continued. “Of course, it helps that my reason is also this world-class interior designer. But if you’re not up for it, I understand.”

“Oh, I’m invested in this now,” she smirked as Karen handed her a glass. “I’m doing it. Tell me what you like, and I’ll liven this space up a little bit.”

Karen shook her head as she sipped her martini. “Honey, this is your area of expertise, not mine,” she said. “Go nuts. Do whatever you want to the place.”

No. That wouldn’t do. She wasn’t about to wing this and hope for the best. Not when this job actually mattered to her. “Kare, it’s  _ your _ home. It’s supposed to feel like it. I want to give you what you want. So…” She leaned in, let her words brush against Karen’s skin. “What do you want?”

She wasn’t expecting Karen to be at a loss. She wasn’t expecting her to look like a deer in the headlights, unable to map out her next move. She didn’t think it was such a loaded question. It made Grace wonder how long it had been since someone asked her what she wanted. It made Grace wonder if anyone had even cared to ask her that before. And all she wanted to do was ease Karen’s mind. “We’ll figure it out,” she said reassuringly, sliding her free hand to the small of the dark haired woman’s back. “We’ll do some shopping, find some things you like.” She couldn’t contain the grin breaking out across her face. “And then I’ll work my magic,” she said as she clinked her glass to Karen’s in a toast to change.

Grace felt a calm wash over them as the light started to return to Karen’s eyes. “Well,” Karen murmured, “you  _ are _ magic. So I know you can work it.” And she brushed her lips softly against the redhead’s.

They started with the bedroom; Grace wanted to give Karen a beautiful place to rest as soon as she possibly could. And as they worked their way through endless paint samples until Karen landed on a soft lavender that made her features twist in possibility, Grace realized how excited she was to do this for her girl. It was an excitement she hadn’t felt in a long time when it came to her work, and she knew it went beyond the fact that she was doing this for Karen. There would be no one over her shoulder this time, telling her to change this or get rid of that. No one to shoot down the possibility of a little innovation. She could decorate this apartment and be proud to put her name on it. She could hear the way Karen called her Gracie like she had just struck gold, could hear the way Karen asked if she could take the bedroom sketch from the restaurant and shift it from blue to purple, could say yes and feel so fulfilled before she had even truly gotten to work.

Grace fell into this new routine so fast that it became impossible to remember a time without it. By day, she would trudge through her work at the firm. But as soon as she could clock out, she rushed to meet Karen. They made their way through furniture stores for an extra boost of inspiration. She brought fabric samples she smuggled from work to the coffee shop. She knocked on her girl’s door with her sketchbook tucked under her arm. Those were the nights that were her favorite, the ones where Karen took her in and poured some wine before they settled in on the couch (which Grace had to admit was insanely comfortable, even if it was basic). The ones where the lights were dimmed just enough so that Grace could still see what she was drawing while still creating a mood. The ones where Karen rested her head on Grace’s shoulder while the redhead worked, close enough to let the scent of Karen’s gardenia perfume surround them both while she murmured compliments and questions (“Come on, Gracie, why can’t we put a bar cart in the bedroom?” “Karen, the kitchen is  _ right there.”). _ The ones that showed Grace she was exactly where she was supposed to be. 

She forgot how much she loved doing this. Because this was it. This was what she imagined when she pictured her life as an interior designer. And it didn’t hurt that Karen was by her side the entire time.

On the day they planned to paint and move all the new furniture into the bedroom, Karen proudly told her that she was going to make them a celebratory dinner to kick off her apartment’s face lift. And if Grace was being honest, it stunned her a little; Karen never really struck her as the type to want to cook, but she wasn’t going to pass up a free meal. It should have tipped her off when she couldn’t smell anything resembling food coming from Karen’s apartment the way she could always smell it when Will got home before her and dove into another one of his extravagant recipes. But when she walked through the door after Karen called out that it was open, she was surprised to find her girl staring at the beginnings of...well, she wasn’t quite sure what the dish was...on the kitchen counter like she was expecting everything to magically prepare itself.

“Kare?” she asked, moving closer to the dark haired woman until she could wrap her arms around her waist. “What’s going on?”

“I got this far before I realized I have no idea what I’m doing,” Karen said, gesturing to all of the ingredients spread out on the counter.

Grace looked at the slab of meat waiting to be cooked and the smattering of vegetables she couldn’t help but feel that Karen randomly pulled from the produce section in the hopes that it would work out somehow. “What exactly were you going for here?” she asked.

Karen sighed as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “God, I don’t know, honey. I was just gonna throw all of this into a pot and see what happened. Isn’t that basically what cooking is anyway?”

Grace didn’t know how this was so endearing, but she was absolutely certain that this was so much better than walking in to find a home cooked meal. It wasn’t like she was any better at this; she had been known to serve takeout at dinner parties. But she loved so much that Karen tried. She bit down on her lip to contain her smile for a moment, before she realized it was pointless to try to stop it. “Well, I don’t think I’d be much help...Will keeps saying my pot roast is like tire tread without the flavor.” She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled a Chinese menu out from underneath its magnet. “But that’s why God invented delivery,” she grinned. “You clean up, and I’ll call?” Karen nodded and grabbed the meat to put back in the refrigerator. But Grace could tell that she was trying to hide the fact that she was a little disappointed. So she stopped her before she could open the door and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Hey…” she murmured when she pulled away. “Thank you for trying.”

Karen let a half-smile start to play on her lips. “Alright, so I’m not a chef,” she said as she opened the refrigerator and traded the meat for a bottle of Pinot Grigio, holding the wine up like it was a trophy. “But at least I’ve got the drinks covered.” She grabbed a couple of glasses and started to pour. “I just thought I’d do something nice for you, since you’ve been doing all of this for me. On top of your actual job, no less. That’s a lot of work, Gracie. And you’ve been nailing it like it’s nothing.”

Maybe it was the fact that she was finally getting the credit she deserved. Maybe it was the fact that the words were wrapped inside Karen’s voice, making it sound like the highest compliment. Maybe it was a little bit of both. But Grace could feel the way the sentiment coated her throat and made it hard to speak. She knew that another thank you wouldn’t be enough. She knew that if she tried to put into words how much it meant, she would be rambling until she got it right (if she ever got it right). So instead, when Karen handed her a full glass of wine, she took a sip as she ran her fingers through her girl’s hair, and changed the subject. “Hey, maybe you could help me tonight. Not that I don’t love it when you have your eyes on me,” she smirked. “But we could get everything painted and moved in a lot faster if we team up.”

“So I would be a designer’s assistant?” Karen drew out, making a teasing show of considering the proposal. “Wow. That sounds like a dream job.”

Grace laughed and pulled her closer. “Okay, so it’s not glamorous. But I’m serious.”

Karen brushed her lips against Grace’s cheek, smiling against her skin as she lingered. “So am I,” she whispered into the redhead’s ear.

After they called in their dinner order and cleaned up any remaining evidence of Karen’s well-intentioned foray into cooking, Grace helped lay down the painter’s tape until they heard a knock on the door. She rushed to grab their meal, leaving Karen in the bedroom while she gave their Plan B a little bit of an upgrade. She lit a couple of candles at the table. She pulled plates from the cabinets and silverware from the drawer and set their places, even though she would have been fine with plastic forks and takeout containers. And at the risk of overstepping some boundary she didn’t know Karen to have, she made her way around the nightstands and dresser and headboard stashed in the living room until she got to the stereo, picked a CD at random so that they could have a little music going during dinner, and skipped around until a swell of orchestral strings forced her to stop. She could hear the crinkling of the tarp Karen was spreading across the bedroom floor as the strings gave way to piano. And then she heard Karen’s voice spilling into the rest of the apartment as she sang along to the song.

_ “You looked like a princess the night we met. With your hair piled up high, I will never forget…” _

Grace was drawn to the bedroom like she was following a siren song, grateful her girl’s back was to her, careful not to make her presence known, in case she startled Karen into stopping. She had no idea Karen could do that.  _ She _ certainly couldn’t; she had seen the way Will reacted every time she tried to sing along to something, and it got to the point where it became a game to her, trying to find all the ways she could get his features to contort when she did it. But this, right now...she had never heard anything so beautiful, so rich, so full of feeling before. She had never seen someone so at peace in their own world before. She had never felt so instantly soothed before. She thought back to the night they met in the club, when she had thrown her hair up before she left 9C to keep cool in the sticky July heat, and couldn’t help feeling so close to Karen, like she landed on this song for a reason, like it was saying the things they haven’t said to each other yet. But those things were there. Of course they were there. Grace felt them with every fiber of her being.

God, she was just so in love with this woman.

And in that moment, her breath hitched with the realization that this was the first time the thought rang so clear and so true in her head.

She froze in the doorway, suddenly scared to death, hoping to god that she didn’t say it out loud, hoping to god that if she did, the music and the rustling of the tarp underneath Karen’s feet hid it. Because it was far too soon for something like that to hit the air, regardless of whether or not it was her truth. She knew Karen was different than anyone else she had been with, for more than just the obvious reason. But she had never fallen for someone so fast before. She had never before felt like the years of losers and heartache and tears had been worth it if it meant that she would eventually get here. And even though it always felt like Karen was on the same page, it wasn’t like they had opened up that line of conversation yet. Even though Karen told Grace that she was her reason for sticking around, Grace couldn’t help remembering her insistence that everything was temporary. She couldn’t help thinking that saying something now would only make Karen run, trying to stay ahead of the avalanche of too much too fast.

She needed Karen to stay. She wasn’t about to do anything to push her out the door.

But it was there. It was screaming inside of her. She felt the echoes reverberating off of every surface now. It wasn’t going to go away.

And Grace didn’t want it to.

Karen turned towards the door, startling into a smile when she found Grace staring back at her. “Oh! Honey, you scared me.” She studied the redhead’s features for a moment before her smile faltered and she furrowed her brow. “Is everything okay?”

Sure. Everything’s okay. Grace only just casually admitted to herself how far she had fallen for you, and now she has to fight to keep it to herself until the time is right. And that’s if the time would  _ ever _ be right. No big deal. It’s fine.

“Yeah, I just...um…” Swallow it Grace. Don’t let it out just yet. Don’t scare her off. Not when things have been going so well. “The food’s ready. I don’t want it to get cold.”

She watched as Karen’s eyes softened in relief. “Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so?” the dark haired woman chirped, seemingly unaware of her girl’s revelation as she made her way to the table. Karen glided all the way down the hall before she realized Grace wasn’t following her (she couldn’t possibly know why Grace was still rooted to the floor, though. At least, this was what Grace was telling herself). She looked over her shoulder, gave a little smirk. “Are you coming or what?” she teased before holding out her hand for Grace to take.

Come on. Snap out of it. It’s just dinner. Take her hand and go. “Of course,” Grace managed, finally taking one step towards Karen, and then another, and another, until she could lace their fingers together and let her girl lead her the rest of the way.

She could do this. She could get through dinner without saying anything; her mouth would be full most of the time anyway. She could get through putting the bedroom together; it would be enough to distract her from the thought pushing everything else out of her mind. She could watch her words. She could learn to adjust. She was certain she could hold out until Karen said it first.

But then she looked over at Karen, eyes glowing as she sat down and picked up her fork, smiling at Grace from across the table. She felt the way those eyes disarmed her, realized there had never really been a time when those eyes  _ didn’t _ disarm her. They coaxed it all out of her without even trying. They made her want to reveal her deepest secrets without a second thought. And Grace knew that Karen was well-intentioned; she made her feel safe, she made Grace think she had seen it all, and what the redhead was keeping close to her chest wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it was. It was hard to look into those eyes without wanting to confide in them until she was out of words and out of breath.

And as she began to move her lo mein noodles around on her plate, she realized that someday, very soon, those eyes would make her spill everything.

* * *

Maybe it was because she had been spending so much time sifting through fabric samples and design ideas with her girl, but Karen had started thinking about the differences between Stan and Grace like the differences between leather and suede. She realized if she tried to tell anyone else her logic--god, maybe even if she tried to tell Grace--they would look at her like she was a lunatic. But everything she had been feeling about Stan, everything she had been trying to put into words these last few months, suddenly clicked the second she started running her fingers through the samples Grace borrowed from work and felt the way they brushed against her skin.

Life with Stan was like leather. Sleek but sharp, hard, nearly impossible to be broken in. But it looked good, so she figured she could adapt to the way it felt, because on the surface, it was better than anything she had been offered before. And she had gotten so used to adapting, that she never thought to question why she was the only one who was expected to. She had gotten used to what Stan offered. A life that was easy because all you had to do was throw enough money at it. A life where everything was at her fingertips and nothing required any effort. A life that numbed her. And if she was being honest, the numbness was appealing at first; after everything she had been through in her life--with her mother, her sister, the ones who told her they loved her--she was convinced she had felt enough to last the rest of her days. But she didn’t anticipate the day when she would yearn to feel something, anything, just one more time.

By the time she realized she didn’t want to be numb anymore, she thought it was too late. Then she met Grace.

And life with Grace...that was soft like suede. It wrapped around her perfectly, molding itself to her form. It kept her warm. It let her move the way she wanted to move. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt like she could finally breathe again. She already fit so well with the redhead. She felt safe. They could let each other in, say anything, without being dismissed or judged or ignored. And for the most part, Karen  _ did _ say anything, knowing that Grace would consider it, take it in and cradle it with the care it deserved. But there were some things she kept to herself, things she wanted to explain but wasn’t sure how to, things that have gone unmentioned for so long that maybe it was better to convince herself that they were never a part of her to begin with. Things like how she was able to fund a total overhaul of her apartment when she was unemployed and spending most of her time in a coffee shop. Or how she was no stranger to New York like she accidentally made Grace believe, but seeing the city through her girl’s eyes made her feel like she was. Or how there were days when she threw on her jeans and looked through her closet for a shirt to wear before coming across the Chanel she wore the day she moved into this place and instantly feeling like a fraud.

Part of her thought that if she started telling Grace these things, it wouldn’t be so bad. They were still a little new, still learning things about each other; it wasn’t like they had been living together for years with secrets under their tongues. Grace could consider them, take them in, cradle them the way she did with all of the fleeting moments that didn’t carry so much weight. She didn’t really have a reason to believe anything else. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if there were already cracks in her facade that were showing Grace the person she was when she was with Stan. Maybe it was an air she just couldn’t shake. Maybe Grace could see it; maybe Grace was put off by it.

Maybe it was why Grace had fallen so silent over dinner tonight.

Karen shifted her glance between her plate and her girl, trying to see if the redhead had put the pieces together. She just found it so strange, the way Grace’s mood shifted so quickly, like she was afraid to say something that was clearly on her mind. She remembered the days they spent picking out furniture, watching Grace’s eyes grow a little wider as she tallied up the costs and realized they still had more ground to cover after they finished the bedroom. She remembered Grace’s timid “Kare, this is starting to get pricey,” and how she waved it off with a smile and a “Don’t worry about it.” Grace had let it go then, seemingly content enough with the unlimited budget not to question it. But she knew the way Grace could linger on things, overthink them, let them sit in her mind until she was no longer comfortable with them. Looking across the table from her now, against the candlelight, it was almost as if she could see the questions forming in her head. And she hated it.

She needed to say something. Whatever could cut those questions off at the pass until she could find the right words to answer them.

“Gracie?” she managed. “Is everything okay?”

Grace looked at her, hesitating before she took a breath. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, you just seem quieter than you were.”

She watched the way Grace tried to make herself meet Karen’s gaze before shifting her eyes back to her plate. “I just...it…” God, the way she was struggling to get the words out. It made Karen’s heart start to sink, until… “You just make me nervous sometimes,” she finally said, softly. “That’s all.”

Well. That wasn’t what she was expecting. “I do?”

“I mean, it’s a good nervous. But nervous. Sometimes.”

Karen furrowed her brow as she let the smallest half-smile show, unsure of which reaction was the more appropriate one. “How am I making you nervous now?” she asked.

Something told her that Grace wasn’t giving her the full story; her girl was holding something back, and as much as she didn’t want to force it out of her when she wasn’t ready to let it hit the air, Karen couldn’t help but let a little bit of Grace’s nervousness rub off on her. But she had to admit, she was relieved when she saw Grace shrug and murmur, “It’s the first time I’m doing this on my own. If you don’t like it, it’s all on me. Plus...you know, it’s you. I care about you too much to mess it up.”

“Honey, look at me.” Grace’s eyes traveled slowly to meet hers. “You’re not messing this up. We’ve gone through every step of this together, I would have told you if I didn’t like anything. Plus…” she drew out, giving Grace’s words back to her, “it’s me. If you’re going to do this on your own for the first time, at least you’ve got someone safe to experiment on.” She saw the way Grace’s smile started to break free and gave a satisfied sigh. “There’s my girl. Come on, we haven’t even put it all together yet. That’s supposed to be the fun part!”

She loved this, seeing the way Grace started to brighten up like a sunrise. There was still a small part of her that thought the redhead might be holding something back. But that part was being blinded by Grace’s light shining from across the table, letting Karen believe that maybe she was the one overthinking things this time, looking for problems when there weren’t any because problems were what she was used to. She was used to bracing herself for when the other shoe dropped; she had spent years preparing for the moment she always knew was inevitable.

It was strange to realize she didn’t have to do that here.

Grace rested her fork on her plate and smirked. “You know what? You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She stood up from the table, motioned towards the bedroom. “So why don’t we let the fun begin?” She made her way to the stereo, flipping it over to the radio before making her way down the hall.

And as Karen followed, she was nearly melted by the way her girl looked over her shoulder, beckoning the dark haired woman before disappearing into the bedroom.

It was incredible, the way Grace drowned all of those nerves in lavender paint the second she got the roller in her hands. Karen tried to do her part, she swore she did; she grabbed the other roller, loaded it with paint, aimed it at the wall. But every time she glanced over, she froze in place, transfixed by the way Grace moved. It was as if whatever was holding her back before never existed, swinging her hips and swaying to the music, timing the strokes of her paint roller to the rhythm. Good lord, Karen could watch this forever, could listen to the way Grace progressed from humming to mumbling to her strangely operatic sing-along as the radio let “Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover” spill into the apartment. And she would have, too, if it hadn’t been for Grace dipping the roller a little too enthusiastically into the paint, punctuating the chorus of the song by splashing lavender onto her clothes, pulling her back into reality.

In an instant, Grace froze, her hand flying up to her mouth in a magnetic pull. But it couldn’t hide the smile shining through between the cracks of her fingers. “Oh my god, Kare…” she started, giggling with each word. “I didn’t mean—“

She was cut off by the fire sparking in Karen’s eyes as the dark haired woman went for one of the brushes on the ground and submerged it in the paint.

“Whoa,” Grace uttered, her voice low and serious even though the sparkle in her eye completely gave her away. “Wait a minute, you know it was an accident.”

If this was what being Grace’s assistant meant--if they could laugh and play and still end up getting the job done eventually--maybe it  _ was _ the dream job Karen tried to assure her it was. “Oh sure, honey. I know it was an accident,” she teased. “So is this.” With a smirk, she gave a flick of her wrist, spraying paint onto the redhead’s t-shirt.

That squeal of surprise, the laughing fit it turned into. Karen was so filled with the way her girl’s voice turned that she knew she would follow that sound for as long as time would allow. “Okay. So that’s how it’s gonna be?” Grace asked as she tried to catch her breath. She bent down to grab the other brush and load it with lavender. “Fine. Two can play that game…” And with that, she launched a battle of paint splatter that neither one of them was going to walk away from.

As Karen dodged and braced herself for a couple hits, taking a few shots of her own and laughing as she started to lose her breath, she couldn’t help thinking about how this never would have flown with Stanley. This wasn’t dignified. This didn’t mix with the image he expected her to carry. Hell, they wouldn’t even be doing something like this on their own; he would have paid someone like Grace to do it all for them, because god forbid they ever put any work into anything. He wouldn’t have been able to see the joy in it all, wouldn’t have been able to let loose, wouldn’t have been able to stop caring whether or not he looked foolish and just let himself enjoy the moment. He wouldn’t let the leather of his life get stained like that. He wouldn’t dare admit that life could be better if he just opened himself up to the softness of suede, the way she had now. And it was a shame, really. Because this was freeing. This was fun.

This was the best she had felt in a long time.

Up until this moment, there had been times when she wondered if she was doing the right thing, when she wondered if she was only kidding herself by staying in this apartment with this girl. But as she watched Grace lunge for the paint to reload her brush with the most overwhelming look of glee on her face, she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

“Okay, okay! Truce! Just put your brush down!” Karen giggled after a while, shielding herself from any last minute retaliation, waiting for the redhead to drop her brush onto the tarp before she did the same. “Honey, come here,” she murmured as she got a hold on Grace’s wrist and pulled her in closer. “You’ve got paint all in your hair.”

Grace sighed, kissed the tip of Karen’s nose that had been spared in the paint war. “As long as we get it on the walls, too, I can deal with a little paint in my hair,” she smiled before picking up the roller and bringing color to the rest of the beige.

Once they had finished the job, they were waiting for the paint to dry when Karen opened up another bottle of wine and poured, the quiet moment between them unable to be broken by the stereo churning out music that Karen could no longer recognize as she passed a glass into Grace’s lavender-splattered hold. Whatever had been holding the redhead back before certainly wasn’t restraining her now; Karen could see the way their little project brought her to life tonight. She had seen the way it brought her to life every time they worked on this, whether it was finalizing the plans for the bedroom or brainstorming ideas for the rest of the place. She had seen the way Grace’s creativity overflowed in each pencil stroke in her sketchbook, heard it in the way she talked about every single step of her process. She remembered the time Grace laid out an idea for redesigning the coffee shop without a second thought, becoming invested in the job without there even being a job to begin with. She knew how happy this made her girl, whenever she was allowed to enjoy it. And she wanted Grace to feel that all the time.

“You really  _ can _ do this on your own, you know,” she murmured as she took a sip of her wine.

“Oh, okay, I see how it is,” Grace smirked. “You’re in for the painting, but the second there’s heavy lifting involved, you run.”

“Well...that’s what you get when you don’t let me put a bar cart in my own bedroom,” Karen teased, filling up on Grace’s laugh before she continued. “Come on, that’s not what I mean! Honey, you don’t need some design firm dimming your shine all the time. You could be your own design firm. Work for yourself, give people spaces you can actually be proud of. It’s what you deserve.”

“What? No, I couldn’t do that.”

“Oh, why not? I’m sure you’ve impressed enough people with your work to get your name around. You know Delia would hire you to fix up the coffee shop in a heartbeat.” She moved in closer to Grace, draping her arm around her shoulders. “Plus, you’ve already got me as your first client, and I could talk you up like crazy. ‘Course, I’m a little biased, but I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

She meant for this to brighten up the redhead’s eyes more than they already had been; she could never get enough of that light. But she saw the way Grace’s brow turned like no one had ever told her it was possible. “You really think I could?” Grace asked, barely above a whisper.

“Gracie, of course you could. What would ever make you think you can’t?”

The redhead didn’t speak for a moment, just rested her forehead against Karen’s while she took a breath. “You’re unbelievable, Karen Delaney,” she murmured.

The dark haired woman couldn’t help but smile at that. “Whaddya talk?”

“It’s just…” Grace pulled back, shook her head like she was trying to shake the words out. “One time, months ago, I told Danny that I couldn’t take much more of the firm, and that maybe I should look into starting my own business. And it wasn’t like I said it on a whim or anything; it had been on my mind for a long time. It’s always been the end goal. I was always stashing a little cash away for the time I could finally branch out.” She sighed and closed her eyes, and Karen wished she could rid her of the weight Danny had placed on her shoulders. “He told me that I don’t want the headaches that come along with running a business and that it was better if I just learned to like where I’m at. He told me it was a lot to handle, and it wasn’t worth it. God, it was like he didn’t think I could do it.” She shrugged in defeat. “For all I know, he’s right. But right now, you’re starting to make me feel like he’s not.”

In that moment, Karen started seeing red. It wasn’t as though she had any sort of positive image of Grace’s ex-boyfriend; there was no way to walk away from their first conversation at the club and think that whatever led Grace to that moment could be forgiven and forgotten with time. She didn’t know too much about him--and frankly, the less she knew, the better--but if shooting down Grace’s dream was any indication… “Honey, no offense, but Danny’s an asshole.”

Grace let out a startled laugh at her bluntness. “Yeah. He is,” she said once her voice steadied. “But there’s also a chance that he’s a correct asshole.”

“What, so you’re just going to put your life on hold for a chance? That’s crazy.”

She could see the way her girl started relaxing into the notion that this whole idea wasn’t as far-fetched as some people tried to make her believe. “I didn’t realize you’d be so adamant about this,” the redhead smirked.

“Well, Gracie, come on, this is your dream! Of course it’s not going to be easy. But that’s not a reason to forget about it; that’s how you know it’s worth it.” She could hear the way her voice was getting stronger and stronger with each word, but she couldn’t stop herself. “And it’s not like you’d be doing this alone. Didn’t you tell me that Will started up his own practice? Maybe it’s not  _ exactly _ the same thing, but he knows what it’s like to build something from the ground up. He can show you how to navigate. You have people in your life who can help you. You know...people who won’t kill your buzz because they can’t stand to see you do something big for yourself.”

She wasn’t planning on spending the night on her soapbox. But good  _ lord, _ the audacity of this guy. It was unbelievable. It made her think of Stan’s audacity. It made her think of every time she tried to hold on to some small part of herself, only to have Stan crush it underneath his foot the first chance he got. She wasn’t sure if this was how Danny had treated Grace all the time. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one who continued the cycle. She softened against Grace’s smile, tried to match it as she murmured, “I could help you too, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, honey! Maybe I could be your assistant all the time! Except for the heavy lifting part, we’ll hire people to do that.”

Grace’s laugh was contagious. “Come on, you wouldn’t wanna work for me. All of that time together every day? We’d get sick of each other in a week.”

Karen felt the redhead relax into her body, couldn’t get over how much she loved that sensation. “Do you honestly believe that?” she asked, her voice dropping with the weight of the question.

She watched as her girl pulled a long sip of wine from her glass in the middle of her “Hmmm...,” waiting to see how long she could draw the moment out before giving up the act and pulling the dark haired woman in closer. “Not for a second,” she said softly. And when she kissed Karen, her lips were tinged with Pinot Grigio and hope.

Karen knew Grace could do it. Break from the firm. Make a name for herself. Put that name on work she actually wanted to claim. She saw the way Grace was slowly starting to let herself believe it. And in that instant, she knew she was going to do whatever it took to be the one who stood by her while she put that belief into action. She was going to be there when Grace finally put in her notice, when she found an office to work out of. She was going to be there when clients started lining up, clamoring for Grace’s expertise. She was going to be there as Grace turned every last one of their spaces into a home.

And it was going to start here, in a Chelsea apartment that stopped being her temporary fix the second her wildfire girl stepped through the door.

“You know, the paint’s probably dry now,” Grace said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “We should start moving the furniture before it gets too late.” She gestured to her wine glass before setting it down on the kitchen counter. “And before I’m too tipsy to do it.”

“Cripes, honey,” Karen smirked. “All this time together, and you still don’t know how to hold your liquor? What am I going to do with you?”

“Something good, I hope,” the redhead fired back with a spark in her eye before beckoning the dark haired woman over to the stockpile of furniture in the living room.

It didn’t take long for them to slide everything into place. Soon enough, they were standing in the doorway of Karen’s bedroom, marveling at how Grace’s sketch just became a reality. The deep violet of the bed and the curtains contrasting against lavender walls. The accent rug to liven up the beige carpet that was beyond their control. The warmth of the lamps Grace placed in the room. The way everything seemed to fit so perfectly, it was already hard to remember a time when the room didn’t look like this. But more than that, there was such an overwhelming sense of Grace in this room, such an overwhelming sense of how Grace saw her. And she couldn’t believe that in the three months since they first met, Grace was the one who seemed to see her more clearly than anybody else in her life ever had. Sure, there might have been a few quick bursts of color here and there, someone walking into her life and giving her the understanding that she craved. But each of those bursts had eventually been washed out to make room for the beige she could never quite escape, for the beige she had gotten used to. If her history taught her anything, it was to be wary of the fact that her life was starting to get a little more colorful again.

But there was something about Grace that made her think this burst was a little more permanent. And she couldn’t help letting herself believe it.

She could feel her girl’s eyes on her, not on the space she had just created, waiting for Karen to say something, to praise it, to trash it, to do something to make her nervous stare a little less nervous. And just as Karen was about to break the silence, Grace did it for her.

“So…” she asked, nearly inaudible against the music still pouring from the stereo in the living room. “What do you think?”

Karen took a step inside, and then another, slowly making her way to the bed before taking a 360 of the room. “What I really think, honey?” she smirked. “I think Grace Adler Designs does phenomenal work.”

Grace’s features turned in a mix of relief and delight as she let out a victorious laugh and crashed into the dark haired woman’s arms, pressing a kiss to her lips before they landed on top of the bed. Karen sighed against the warmth of her girl’s body on top of her, the way she nestled in close, the way she wouldn’t break the kiss even when the bounce of the mattress springs tried to tear them apart.

Karen still wasn’t quite used to someone refusing to let go of her. But she had to admit, it felt incredible. And as Grace reluctantly pulled away and started studying the features of the woman underneath her, Karen knew with every fiber of her being that she was in this, and she was in deep.

She loved this girl. One of these days, when it didn’t seem too fast, when she could be sure it wouldn’t scare Grace off, she would say it out loud. But right now, she loved the way the thought swam in her head.

“Say it again,” Grace murmured, her paint-speckled wildfire like a curtain closing them off from the rest of the world as she hovered above Karen.

In that instant, Karen knew that she would never tire of telling Grace the truth. “You do phenomenal work.”

“No, the first part. Call me that again.”

Good lord, the sheer joy that colored her voice. Karen couldn’t get enough of the way it filled the room. She reached up and drew her touch along the redhead’s cheek before looking her straight in the eye, drawing out each word. “Grace Adler Designs.”

Grace bit down on her lower lip, but couldn’t contain the grin that broke free. “I like that,” she sighed. “I want to be that.”

The dark haired woman didn’t even hesitate. “Honey, you  _ are _ that.” And she could tell by the look in her girl’s eyes that she believed her.

Sometimes, Karen had to truly stop and take in what it was like to be with someone like Grace. Stan always had an answer for everything. Any question, any compliment, any statement that wasn’t even directed towards him, he always needed to have the last word. It was almost like a game in the beginning, trying to find the right turn of phrase that could leave him speechless. But after a while, she realized that she was never going to win this game. After a while, she stopped trying to leave him speechless. After a while, she had gotten so used to him filling the air with his voice that it turned into white noise, something she could tune out if she didn’t give it much thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she truly heard the things he said.

But this was the difference between leather and suede. Because right now, she made Grace speechless. Right now, she watched the redhead’s stunned smile try to wrap itself around words that couldn’t come. Right now, she knew how much it meant to her girl to hear something so simple yet so true. Right now, it wasn’t a game, but she felt like she just won it all.

Silence had never been so golden before.

“Whaddya say we get the rest of the wine and bring it in here, huh?” she murmured to give Grace a reprieve. “We’ll toast to Grace Adler Designs’ first job.”

Grace smirked and pushed herself off of the bed. “I’ll get it,” she said as she made her way to the kitchen. Karen sat up in bed and was propping herself up against the pillows when she heard her call out from across the apartment, “Anyway, Grace Adler Designs’ first job isn’t even done yet.” And then, returning with the bottle in one hand and their glasses in the other, “Unless you’re going to just live in this room for the rest of your life.”

Karen shrugged as she took the bottle and her glass from her girl and looked her straight in the eye. “Well, maybe if you play your cards right, I will...” she teased.

Grace laughed as she fell into the place she belonged, burrowed into the crook of Karen’s arm. She took the bottle from her girl’s grip and took a swig from it before pouring the rest into her glass. They toasted to the new bedroom, started murmuring about which room to take on next, started murmuring about everything, about nothing. At some point, Grace took their glasses and set them on the nightstand, and Karen knew that the redhead was getting tired by the way she snuggled in closer. But she didn’t leave. And Karen didn’t want her to. She wanted to feel her girl’s body slacken as she fell deeper into sleep, wanted to hear Grace’s breathing even out, wanted to stay here in this moment.

She stayed awake as long as she could, taking in the warmth of Grace against her. But soon enough, she could feel her eyes growing heavier and heavier. And as she finally closed them, surrendering herself to slumber, she couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful it felt to let herself fall into suede.


	8. Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JHnMI1dTj00)

_**“Mercy, mercy, baby** _   
_**I do not know what this all means** _   
_**It’s been a while since I’ve been stylin’** _   
_**In just my jacket and my jeans** _   
_**It hurts to walk, it hurts to talk** _   
_**It hurts to think about it, shout about it** _   
_**Could I be sure without a doubt** _   
_**That you could never live without me?”** _

_ October 1994 _

She had to admit, there were things that she missed, things that she honestly didn’t think she would. Everything she had gotten used to over the last nine years was just unnecessary luxury, pieces of life she lived without before meeting Stanley and could live without again, now that he was fading further and further into black. But that was the whole problem; she had gotten used to those things. And now that they were gone, Karen felt their absence whenever she was alone and let the silence of her apartment surround her, forcing every one of her senses into overdrive.

She missed the martinis she used to order whenever Stan took her to his favorite bar. Exorbitantly priced but free-flowing, mixed so perfectly that it was impossible to get one that tasted as good anywhere else. Karen tried to replicate it at home countless times, but could never quite seem to get it right. And it wasn’t like she was about to throw on her abandoned Chanel and make an appearance at one of Stan’s favorite haunts. She knew she would see him. She knew he would consider it his victory. And she refused to give him that, even if it was in exchange for the best martini in town.

Although, she  _ did _ miss her Chanel. And her Prada. And her Gucci. Sometimes. Most of it was stashed away at Stan’s, in some closet he probably doesn’t even remember he has. But she had set aside the smallest box with some of her favorite pieces, in case she ended up deciding that he was right and she put an end to this whole self-discovery thing before it truly got started, in case she needed something to wear when she went back to him with her head hung low. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the style she fell into while living in Chelsea; in fact, it was hard for her to remember a time when she didn’t feel this comfortable. But sometimes, she would pull the trappings of her old life off of their hangers and slip them on, sighing at the way the fabric hugged her curves, standing in front of the mirror for what felt like hours because she couldn’t get over how different and familiar she looked all at once, because she couldn’t get over the rush of confidence that washed over her in this dress, or in those pumps.

Grace kept telling Karen she was the most confident person she knew. And maybe that was true. But Karen wished her girl could get a load of her when she looked like this. Because this confidence was nothing like the kind that came from the right pair of jeans and that overworn flannel that the redhead loved to feel around her as she burrowed into Karen’s arms. Even though, to be fair, that kind of confidence was pretty good, too.

Most of all, Karen missed being able to do extravagant things on a whim without anyone she cared about questioning it. She wanted to take Grace everywhere, show her so many things she knew her girl would love. But every time she got a good idea for a date night, she quickly realized all of the ways in which it wouldn’t work. Every restaurant was one where they could run into Stan or someone from his circle (she honestly couldn’t decide which would be worse). Every uptown bar had a dress code and the lingering secrets of her past life. She was pretty sure she could steal Stan’s box at the opera for a night, let Grace raid her closet, get dressed up. But suggesting a night like that would be so far out of left field that she just knew Grace would get suspicious. And she would have to explain why she had a stockpile of designers in her closet. And she would still run the risk of some nosy socialite catching her and gossiping about it within Stan’s earshot. Normally, she wouldn’t give a damn what he thought. But seeing as he was currently bankrolling everything she did, she wasn’t quite ready to have that taken away from her, not until she had an income that didn’t rely on her soon-to-be ex-fiancé’s whim. So she was stuck with dive bars and coffee shops and takeout.

Just once, she wanted to be able to spoil Grace. She wasn’t used to living a life where she couldn’t. It shouldn’t be this hard to go back to the way things were before Stan waltzed into her life with enough charm and money to blind her to the wife he kept hidden from her for so long (good  _ lord, _ why wasn’t that a red flag back then?). It made her think that maybe the expensive martinis and the designers and the extravagance were just who she was always supposed to be. It made her think that even though she was happier now, she was kidding herself. It made her think she should just pack it in now, go back to the manse before she was in too deep, before she ran out of steam and Grace ran out of patience.

It made her think too much. And she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Girl, you are so deep inside your head right now.”

Karen could hear the echoes of Delia’s voice trying to pull her out from what sounded like a million miles away. By the time she could shake off the thoughts rattling around in her mind, she found her friend across from her at her usual table at the coffee shop, fishing around Karen’s purse until she victoriously pulled out the flask she had been looking for. “Excuse you!” she laughed, pulling the purse from Delia’s grasp. “You know, you could have asked.”

“I did,” Delia said matter-of-factly as she unscrewed the flask and poured its contents into her mug. “But you were off in your own little world.” She passed the flask across the table. “What’s with you today? Girl trouble?”

“What? No. Grace is good.  _ We’re _ good. I just…” Devil. She knew Delia wasn’t going to let it go; they had gotten to know each other well enough to know when something’s wrong with the other, and they had gotten comfortable enough with each other to refuse to let it go. The trick was to word it so that she wouldn’t be asked too many questions. “I don’t know, honey, do you ever miss the person you were in your twenties?”

“Karen, I was an idiot in my twenties, so...no.”

“You were with Nadine in your twenties…” Karen shrugged.

“Watch yourself,” Delia warned, her stern look morphing slowly into a smirk. “Anyway, we’re not talking about me. Why are you suddenly missing the Stan version of you?”

“Maybe ‘miss’ isn’t the right word.” Karen drew a long sip from her mug, bought herself some time to put together a good answer. “I just knew what to do with myself then. I could figure out what was coming next and brace myself. It’s been so long since…” Since what? Since she had lived in jeans, without that extra layer of protection those designers always seemed to give her? Since she took a dive into something so unpredictable?

“Since you let yourself feel something, and you hate that you can’t turn it off the way you could with Stan, in case the day ever comes when you need to.”

Cripes. She hated when Delia was right. But good lord, did she hit the nail on the head. All of the things she had been missing from her life with Stan weren’t the things that made up who she was, even if she had gotten to the point where she could convince herself they were. No, these were the things that distracted her, that helped her strengthen her walls. These were the things that made being with Stanley as tolerable as possible. And while she didn’t need those things with Grace, there was no telling what would happen down the line. There was no telling if or when she would have to fortify those walls again.

She missed that safety net of the high life. She wasn’t quite sure what to do without it.

“Well, fine, Ms. Know-It-All,” Karen sighed. “How do I deal with it?”

Delia took a breath like she was going to throw a little sass right back at her, before giving her friend a genuinely earnest look. “Okay, I get that you’re new to the whole vulnerability deal, but I honestly don’t think you have anything to worry about. That girl is madly in love with you. Like,  _ madly. _ You’re golden. And I know, I know you’re gonna tell me I can’t predict the future, but when you think about it...”

Karen could hear her rambling on, but her words faded into the background to make room for the echoes of her casual declaration.  _ That girl is madly in love with you. _ It wasn’t something Grace had ever said out loud, at least not to Karen. And it wasn’t something Karen was planning on saying out loud, at least not until she was absolutely sure it wouldn’t scare Grace off; the last thing she wanted was to look like she was forcing her girl into something when her girl was still trying to figure out who she was (good lord, where was that safety net when you needed it?). But if she could be sure they were on the right page, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she was the one to say it first. “Wait a minute, wait a minute!” she blurted out, cutting Delia off mid-sentence. “Honey, rewind a bit. She’s in love with me?”

“Well, yeah,” Delia said, brow twisted like she couldn’t believe Karen didn’t see it.

“Did she say something to you?”

“She didn’t have to! I’ve been around the two of you. A lot. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. You don’t look at someone like that when you’re not in love with them. It’s kinda like...well, it’s kinda like the way you look at her.” Karen could feel the way the blush warmed up her cheeks, hated that it was such an obvious tell, but saw the way Delia lit up in vindication and couldn’t help smiling. “Just own it, Kare,” Delia smirked. “That blush is a good color on you.”

Karen scrunched up her face and threw her hand in front of it to block herself from Delia’s view. “Stop looking at me like that, okay?” she laughed, taking a beat before looking through the cracks of light between her fingers. “But yeah...I really do love her.”

It was the first time Karen let those words hit the air, the first time she let someone else hear them. And it startled her at first to hear how they sounded in her voice; it startled her even more that Delia wasn’t telling her she was crazy, or that she didn’t think Grace was on the same level. It made everything so real. She thought the realness would weigh her down. But it made her feel like she was flying. It made her feel like she could fly without a safety net. 

It was incredible to realize what she had been missing out on for so many years. 

“There you go,” Delia sighed. “God, it’s about time you said it. Now, go tell her.” She could see Karen take a breath to protest and stopped her before she could get started. “Seriously! It’s not going to do you any good if I’m the only one who knows. Don’t fight it just because you don’t want to get hurt. She’s supposed to be the one who’s different. So let yourself enjoy it.” She looked over her shoulder at the growing line at the counter and the frazzled new barista who was in no way equipped to handle it, muttering  _ “Shit” _ under her breath as she got up to help. But before she left, she made sure she had Karen’s eyes locked on hers as she spoke.

“By the way...this version of you is better than the Stan version.”

Karen let a half smile start to play across her face. “Dee, you didn’t know the Stan version.”

“I don’t have to know that version to know it wasn’t the real one. I don’t think I’d have the heart to know that version, anyway. You just seem like you feel free now. And that will always make this version sitting in front of me the better one. The real one.”

God, Karen didn’t want to get emotional; that wasn’t really her vibe with Delia (it honestly hadn’t been her vibe with anyone for years). And before the tears she could feel forming in her throat had a chance to escape, she waved her friend off. “Honey, go help that poor barista of yours. She’s drowning.”

_ “Fine. _ I’ll go work. Don’t leave without saying goodbye.” Delia picked up her mug and reluctantly made her way back to the counter, unable to hide the look of annoyance over having to actually do things at her place of business.

Karen took a sip off of her mug in the hopes of swallowing her feelings along with her coffee. It wasn’t like she thought she wasn’t being her true self; if she was being honest, she felt more like herself now than she ever had before. But no matter how hard she tried, she just could not shake off the imposter syndrome that had invaded her mind. She was waiting for someone to call her out, waiting for Stan to barge in and kill the illusion. And now, she was waiting for Grace to say the words Delia was so sure she’d say, only for the redhead to decide somewhere down the road that she didn’t really know the woman she loved. It felt like she was constantly one step away from destroying everything.

But…

Grace loved her. Or at least, Delia thought she did. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t feel like she had that girl’s heart. But it was one thing to think it; hearing someone else say it so confidently was something else entirely. She wasn’t about to get her hopes up yet, wasn’t about to assume anything until she actually heard those words in Grace’s lilt. But it made her start to feel safer to take bigger steps, made her start to feel like they wouldn’t be in the completely wrong direction if she started to take them. If only she could think of the perfect bigger step to take.

Karen sighed, started fishing around in her bag for her lighter and cigarettes, something to help calm her nerves; she was starting to feel a little too much, and it was starting to make her keyed up. Her brow furrowed in confusion as her fingers brushed up against a set of keys that didn’t feel like the ones to her apartment. She grabbed hold of them, bringing them into the light of the coffeeshop to get a closer look, surprised to see what was resting in her hand.

Oh. Right. The boat.

_Oh._ _Right. The boat._ She still had the keys to her boat. She couldn’t believe she forgot about stashing the keys when she left the manse, to be sure this was something Stan couldn’t take away from her. This was good. This was something she could do for Grace without feeling like she was falling back into her old patterns.

Because technically, it  _ was _ still hers. It was a gift, after all, given to her early on in her relationship with Stan, when he was still trying to win her over with flash and excess. She remembered how he prefaced the reveal by saying it wasn’t anything fancy, how she nearly choked on his words when he gave her the keys and took her to the dock, because she had never before been given something so extravagant. She remembered how he told her it was the best way to see the stars in New York City, how she was stunned that he remembered her saying that the stars were the one thing she missed about the places she had lived with her mother. Although, every time she played it back in her mind now, it sounded more and more like a generic line he would have given her regardless of how much she missed the stars. And she remembered how in later years, she used it as a way to escape Stan more than she used it as a way to get a good glimpse of the night sky.

That boat so quickly turned into something she could hide in. It was about time she used it for something good.

It was an unseasonably warm day that was supposed to fade into an unseasonably warm night, and Karen didn’t need any more than this to be convinced; she didn’t see the harm in throwing a blanket and some champagne into a bag, picking Grace up for one of their walks tonight, and casually leading her towards the 79th Street Boat Basin to take her out onto the water. It wasn’t the worst idea in the world; Grace missed the stars, too. She remembered a late night phone call not too long ago, where the redhead had wandered out onto the terrace of her apartment and sighed about how there were too many lights in this city, that she couldn’t see the sky for what it really was. It was one of the only things she missed about Schenectady, she had murmured to Karen over the phone that night; she wanted to be able to look up every now and then and follow the infinite paths of the stars, wanted to feel the way it used to calm her even when she didn’t realize she needed it. Karen knew Grace wasn’t expecting anything to come from that conversation. But it would be so great to surprise her girl. It would be so great to make a few good memories on that boat for a change.

It would be so great to let her true feelings hit the air, to have her words illuminated by the stars.

Karen held the keys in her hand, felt the weight of them and the possibility they carried against her palm. They sparked the kind of nerves she had honestly forgot existed. The kind that excited her, the kind that fueled her. The kind that made her bold enough to take a risk. The kind that made her want to down the rest of her coffee and get the hell out of here, so she can tell Grace to be ready by eight. She liked the way these nerves jolted her, made electricity course through her body, made her want to move. She couldn’t sit still; she needed to go home and dial her favorite number. She needed to hear the way “Yes” sounded wrapped inside Grace’s voice. She needed to spend her night with her girl.

She looked over towards the counter and quickly realized that Delia wasn’t going to be free to come back to her anytime soon. It was probably for the best; she knew that if she stuck around for much longer, she would start to talk herself out of this even though it was all she wanted. She drained what was left of her drink and grabbed her purse, making sure to bring her empty mug up to the counter before waving her goodbye to Delia.

“You’re leaving already?” Delia called out across the line of customers wrapping around the counter.

“I gotta go call Grace!” she called back, her uncontrollable grin shining across her face.

“Oh my god, please tell me you’re not doing your first ‘I love you’ over the phone.”

“Come on, honey, what do you take me for?” She made her way to the door, her weight resting on the handle as she stopped and looked over her shoulder towards her friend, giving her a smirk as she continued. “Don’t worry. I’ve got something a lot better in mind for that.”

And with that, she was out the door, racing for home.

* * *

  
“When did you know you were in love with Michael?”

Will looked up from his book and cracked a smile from the other side of the couch as he met his best friend’s gaze, taking in the way she made herself up for her surprise date with Karen, glamming up the casual so she could be dressed for anywhere. “You want an exact date on that?” he teased.

Grace nudged him with her foot. “Come on, I thought we talked about the jokes,” she sighed, narrowing her eyes. 

“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He slid his bookmark in between the pages and set his novel down on the coffee table. “Honestly, I was pretty gone from the start. And then maybe a couple months in, I realized that it was love. Not that I told him that,” he smirked. “I waited until he said it first. I didn’t want to mess it all up by showing my hand too soon.”

Grace sighed, threw her head back in exasperation. “See, that’s my whole issue!” she exclaimed. “It’s like if I tell Karen I love her now, I’m the idiot who said it after a month of dating, and it changes everything for the worse.”

“Well, not necessarily. You two have known each other for a few months before you started dating, so that doesn’t make it as fast as…” Will trailed off, registering what Grace had just said. “Wait a minute, you love her?!” he nearly shouted in realization.

“Well, yeah!” she said defensively, unable to pick out the tone in his voice the way she usually could. “It’s not like I tried it! I didn’t even realize it happened so fast. But then we were fixing up her bedroom, and there was just something about her that night that made it so insanely clear. God, I don’t think I even felt this way about Danny. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“You could...you know...tell her.”

“And ruin everything? No thank you.”

“What makes you so sure it’s going to ruin everything?”

“Because it’s going way too well! It’s only a matter of time before the other shoe drops. And when it does, it’s not gonna be my fault, okay? It’s not gonna be because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

She could see the way Will softened at that. “Okay, I get that,” he conceded. “I’ve been there. But sweetie...sometimes you just have to take the risk. If Michael hadn’t, who knows if we would have ever gotten to the ‘I love you’ part? Trust me, it’s better to take the risk than it is to just keep going around in circles. If what you’ve got with her is as good as you say it is, you’ll be okay.”

Grace couldn’t help the hopeful gleam in her eyes. “You really think so?”

“I do. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that you’ve basically spent every day with her since July. It’s not like you’re blurting it out after the first date or anything.  _ If _ you choose to blurt it out, that is.”

She loved how he could do that, how he could ease her mind with the logic she couldn’t see through the nervousness and anxiety. She had no idea what she would do without him. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, throwing a small smile his way.

“Of course I am,” he joked before turning a shade serious. “Just be careful, okay?”

Grace furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...look, the coming out relationship is always gonna be the most intense one, the one you go into with this brand new sense of self that makes everything feel amazing. You find out about all the things you’ve been missing out on, and you’d do anything to keep those things around all the time. And sometimes it blinds you to the red flags that pop up. Remember when Scott Kelly dumped me Junior year?”

Grace rolled up her sleeve to show off the scar on her elbow from when she hit that patch of black ice on her moped trying to race to his side after the breakup. “Damn Aca-pelicans,” she muttered with a smirk, cursing that stupid men’s singing group that was unable to break her fall in any substantial way when she crashed into them. “But you had been out for a while by that point, how was Scott Kelly the coming out relationship?”

“I fooled around here and there, but I never really fell for anyone until him. And when he left, it felt like it was the end of the world, like there was no possible way I could keep going on with my life if he wasn’t there to share it with me. It messed me up for a long time.” He could see Grace was getting ready to protest and stopped her before she could get a word out. “And I’m not saying that it’s going to be like that with Karen. From everything you told me, she’s great. She seems to really care about you. For all I know, you two are gonna grow old together and laugh about the early days when I told you to be careful around her. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t say something.” He reached out to grab his best friend’s hand, keeping it safe within his. “I love you, Gracie; I don’t want to see you get hurt, even if she doesn’t mean to hurt you.”

She didn’t want to think about a world where Karen Delaney would break her heart like that, to the point where it would be shattered beyond recognition. But if the impossible ever did come to pass, she knew she would be able to weather the storm as long as Will was by her side. And Will was always by her side. “I love you, too,” she murmured, unable to say much of anything else.

Will studied her for a moment before taking a breath. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

Grace shrugged. “Sure feels like it,” she said. “Do you think that’s weird?”

The smile growing on her best friend’s face started calming the nerves she was surprised to learn were there. “No. I think that’s fantastic.”

She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear him say that. And she would have told him, too, if it wasn’t for the knock on the door.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Will asked, waiting for Grace’s nod before he grabbed his book and stood up. “I’ll just give you two some space.” He kissed Grace on the cheek, retreating to his bedroom as the redhead walked to the front door. She waited until Will was completely out of sight before she opened it, revealing a grinning dark haired woman in the hallway.

“Hiya, honey,” Karen chirped, pressing a soft kiss to Grace’s lips. “Ready to go?”

Grace couldn’t help matching Karen’s smile as she grabbed her purse and shut the door behind her. She saw the large tote bag Karen had slung over her shoulder, trying to get a look inside, even though she knew her girl wouldn’t give up the goods that easily. Still, she had to try. “I’d be more ready if I knew where we were going,” she drew out, giving it a shot.

“What, and ruin the surprise? I don’t think so.” Karen watched as the elevator doors opened and motioned for Grace to go in first. And as they rode down to the ground floor, she playfully drew her finger along Grace’s jawline, commanding the redhead’s attention. “Nice try, though,” she murmured sweetly.

Grace tried to hail a cab as soon as they stepped outside the building, but Karen took her hand and started to lead her towards the river. “No, honey, we’re not going far,” the dark haired woman said, throwing a breathless laugh at the redhead’s confusion and pulling her closer. “Just trust me, okay?”

If there was a better feeling than the one Grace got whenever she brushed against Karen--accidentally or on purpose--she didn’t know it. “I trust you,” she whispered against her girl’s ear.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they moved closer towards their destination, Grace burrowing as close to Karen as she could even though it was surprisingly warm for an October night. She didn’t care where they were going, as long as they could stay like this when they got there. She felt safe here, wherever here was. She felt like she could take a risk and make it through to the other side relatively unscathed. She felt like if the right moment presented itself tonight, she could let everything hit the air and it would sound like a song.

One that she hoped Karen would sing along to.

She felt Karen slow down against her as she looked around to fully, finally take in her surroundings before the dark haired woman took a turn into Riverside Park and started leading her down a set of oversized cement stairs that made her unsteady on her feet. It started to feel suspiciously like a hike, as close to one as she ever wanted to be. “I don’t know where you got your information,” she quipped, already growing breathless from the journey as Karen started pulling her through a tunnel to another set of stairs, “but I’m not usually this outdoorsy.”

Karen let out a short laugh that filled Grace instantly. “I know, I know, it’s a little out of the way, but it’ll be worth it.” And then, shifting her sly gaze to her girl, “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do. It’s just that when you called me to go out, I figured we were going down to the bar or something. Not cutting through the park to wherever the hell we’re—”

Grace stopped in her tracks as she finally looked out over the quiet, peaceful view of the Hudson River, streetlights below them illuminating the path that led to a string of boats resting in their slips. In an instant, she forgot about the trek here, letting the calmness of this place surround her. This was beautiful. This was perfect. 

This was why she should always trust Karen.

“The boat basin?” she asked, too curious to care about the final set of stairs they’d have to take to get down there.

Karen pulled the keys to what she could only assume was one of these boats out of her pocket. “You’re not the only one who misses the stars, honey,” she smirked. “You don’t get seasick, do you?”

Grace shook her head no as Karen led her to their slip and the deck boat waiting for them. “How did you get the keys to a boat?” she asked as she climbed on board, unable to believe that this was the casual date her girl put together at the last minute.

“I...I know a guy. He gave me the keys.” Grace thought it was kind of cute, the way Karen’s nerves made her trip over her words like that, like she was worried this wouldn’t be the success she wanted it to be. Grace knew her to be so unflappable; she couldn’t help but revel just a little bit in the thought that she could shake Karen’s mind the way Karen shook hers.

It started to convince her that Will was right after all.

After Karen undocked, she motioned for Grace to take a seat while she readied herself at the steering wheel. “Come on, relax a bit,” she said. “I know what I’m doing, I promise.” She waited until the redhead sat down by her before she steered the boat a bit further into the Hudson, away from the bright lights of Manhattan. She watched as Karen drove like it was nothing, the confidence in her actions making her glow like they were still under the perpetual shine of the city. It surprised her, knowing that Karen could do this. It thrilled her, how this control contrasted with the way Karen’s nerves made her fumble just a few minutes ago. It warmed her, knowing there would always be something about Karen that surprised her, that thrilled her. In that moment, Grace knew that she would trek through nature and beaten paths and oversized stairs as long as Karen was the one who led her.

In that moment, Grace was so wrapped up in her, it wasn’t until her girl moved away from the steering wheel that she noticed they had slowed to a stop.

Karen anchored and went into her tote bag to pull out a bottle of champagne with a triumphant “Ta-daa” as she passed it over to Grace. The redhead popped it open as she watched Karen digging around in her bag, pulling a long swig from it as her girl took a blanket out and turned to face her. Karen caught her mid-swig and started laughing. “You know, I’m not a monster. I  _ did _ bring glasses.”

Grace wiped her mouth on the back of her hand as the champagne tickled her throat. “Eh, life’s too short for glasses,” she smirked, bringing the bottle back to her lips for another quick sip. She reached out for Karen’s free hand and pulled her in, brushing her lips gently against the dark haired woman’s the second she got close enough, refusing to pull away until Karen was seated next to her. She pulled the blanket over both of them and handed the bottle off to her girl, melting a bit over the way Karen kept her eyes on her while she drank. She could swear Karen’s lips were curled into a smile the whole time. It was nearly impossible to tear her gaze away from this woman; it took all the effort Grace had to look up at the night sky. But when she finally did, she was blown away. “Oh my god, Kare, look at this,” she said, pointing up above.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Karen lifting her head to see the way the stars had shown up for them, scattered across the sky, waiting for them to trace paths between each one. It was so easy to forget about them when the place you called home did everything in its power to hide them; the longer you stayed here, the easier it was to convince yourself that this was how you’ve always lived, knowing that they exist but never seeing them. And then, when you finally look up, you can’t believe how brilliantly small they make you feel, how humbled you become. It always took Grace’s breath away whenever she could escape the city. And from the way Karen sighed in wonder, she knew it took hers away, too. She let the silence drape over them for a moment before she thought to search for her voice.

“Whenever I was hating my sisters,” she murmured, “or if I thought my parents were being really unfair and I needed a getaway, I’d wait until the sun went down, and then I’d climb out of the window of our attic and sit out on the roof. Mainly because I needed a quiet place to be. But then I’d look up at the stars, and everything I was mad about just completely faded away.” She started to smile as the peace of the moment truly began to wash over her. “I don’t think there’s anything that calms me the way this does.” 

“I know what you mean.” Karen slid her arm around Grace’s shoulders and sighed. “My mother moved us around so much when I was a kid, it was hard to be comfortable. I just knew the second I started to get used to our new home would be the second Lois would tell me to start packing. But I knew that wherever we ended up next, there would always be someplace I could run off to, so I could be alone for a little while, lie on the grass, lose myself in the way the sky would shine. After a while, I’d take Gin with me so she could get away, too. Lois never asked where we were going. I don’t even think she really noticed.” She took a beat, and then, “Nothing ever stayed the same for very long. The more I think about it, the more I realize that the stars were my only constant.”

Grace would get these pieces of Karen’s past sometimes, pieces that seemed small enough on their own. But when she started to put them together, she realized just how much her girl had been through in her life, how it was more than anyone should have to go through. And she knew that it was only the tip of the iceberg, that there were multitudes she hadn’t seen yet. Maybe someday, Karen would let her carry some of the weight so she wouldn’t have to struggle under it alone. But until then, Grace took a breath and said the only thing she could think of to say. “You deserve so much more than what you were given, Kare.”

“Yeah, well...it’s okay.” Karen gave the redhead a little nudge before she pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I got to the good stuff eventually. It just took a few years and an accidental trip to a gay club.”

It was incredible, the way Karen could completely blindside Grace with something like that, said so simply that you had to take it as fact. She couldn’t remember the last time someone she gave her heart to made her believe that something like this wasn’t just lip service. She wanted to be blindsided for the rest of her days.

By Karen’s words and by her impressive impromptu date nights.

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” she said softly, pulling her gaze away from the night sky, shifting it to the dark haired woman next to her. “I can’t believe this is what you do with something I tell you in passing.”

Karen smiled as she waved away Grace’s comment. “Honey, it’s really not a big deal.”

“But it is. You hear me. You hear every little thing I say. No one’s heard me like that before.” She looked down at her hands, a fresh batch of nerves beginning to drag her down. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real. It’s like I’ve been dreaming my way through these last few months.”

“Well...if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.”

There it was, Grace. Your window, wide open. Soar through it. Your girl is coming in loud and clear. You’re as safe as you’re going to get. Take your chance. Take a breath. Just say it.

“I love you.”

She must have thought of a million different reactions to prepare for. The one where Karen’s eyes lit up as she said it back. The one where Karen was rendered speechless and could only respond with the most passionate kiss Grace had ever experienced. The one where Karen’s features turned as she tried to let Grace down easy. The one where Karen pulled the rug out from under her, steered the boat back to shore and left her without another word. What she wasn’t prepared for was how Karen’s eyes lit up like she was going to say it back, only to watch her body start to shake with laughter. “Gracie, I can’t believe you just did that,” the dark haired woman managed in between breaths.

Well. Might as well pack it in now. They had a good run. But there was no coming back from her heartfelt declaration being laughed away like that. Still, even as she felt herself deflate, Grace couldn’t resist. “Why not?”

She waited as Karen settled herself and took one last fortifying breath. “I’m sorry, honey, I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just...do you know why I brought you here tonight?”

Grace shrugged. “We missed the stars.”

“Sure, that was part of it. But mainly, I had this crazy idea that the boat would be the perfect place to tell you that I love you, too.” Karen looked around them for a moment, taking in their surroundings. “Which, now that I think about it, seems a little much, but at least the sentiment is there.”

Karen’s laugh was contagious at first, caught up in the coincidence of the same string of words being on the tips of both of their tongues. But then that string of words finally hit Grace for what they were. And she sat there, frozen and stunned. “Wait a minute, go back a bit,” she said, unable to contain the surprise in her voice. “Say that again.”

It was a chance to backtrack, to say she was kidding without repercussions. They could laugh it off, go about their business. Sure, Grace would be disappointed, but it was still early enough in the relationship to pretend she wasn’t and get away with it. But Karen didn’t backtrack; she doubled down. “I love you, too.”

“Are you serious?” Grace asked, feeling her grin growing uncontrollably wide. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Honey, I wish you knew how many times I’ve bitten my tongue to keep myself from saying it until now. I didn’t want to scare you off.” She took a beat like she wasn’t sure if she should keep going, but decided to anyway. “It’s been a long time since someone’s made me feel this way. I don’t want to give you a reason to leave.”

God. All that time agonizing--to herself, to Will--over when the right time would be, when she could have just said it as soon as she felt it. She’d feel foolish now, if she didn’t know that Karen had been agonizing over it, too. Instead, she was overwhelmed by how much they clearly cared about each other. “You wouldn’t have,” she said. She nestled deeper into the crook of Karen’s arm. “You don’t have to handle me with kid gloves, you know. It’s gonna be alright. I’m not gonna run away.”

Something resembling relief washed over Karen’s face in that moment before Grace rested her head against the dark haired woman’s shoulder. “Yeah...I think I’m really starting to see that,” Karen replied, pressing a kiss into the nest of Grace’s curls. Grace could feel the way Karen’s body relaxed into her, like the reassurance lifted a weight she didn’t want Grace to know she carried on her shoulders. And she felt that peace start to cover her, too.

They sat there, watching the stars, passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty. They let their random ramblings punctuate the quiet of the Manhattan night. They refused to move until the air against the river made it too cold to stay. They reluctantly drove back to the dock, back to incessant lights in the land where stars are a myth. They took the longest way they could back to Grace’s apartment, arm in arm, step by gloriously slow step. They kissed goodnight when they got to the redhead’s door. They whispered their I love yous like they were a secret, laughed as Karen called the elevator when they realized they weren’t anymore. Grace didn’t go inside until the elevator door closed and Karen was surely well on her way back to Chelsea; she wasn’t ready to share this yet, wasn’t ready to give Will and Michael the rundown she was sure they would demand.

Because as far as she was concerned, she and Karen were the only two souls in Manhattan. And she wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as she could.


	9. How Would I Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R03miWDLyw0)

_**“You might believe there’s a paradise** _   
_**In the next hello** _   
_**How would I know** _   
_**If you don’t tell me so?** _   
_**If you wanted to go,** _   
_**How would I know?”** _

_ November 1994 _

She didn’t think about Danny at all anymore.

It was a slow but steady progression, one that made it easy not to notice. When Grace first moved in with Will and Michael, she couldn’t stop venting to them about all the things that went wrong in their relationship, or--once she had one glass of wine too many--lamenting on the few things she missed. She knew she talked about it too much, could see it in Will’s eyes even when he thought she couldn’t. But then she met Karen, and the venting and lamenting gave way to seeing all the things Karen gave her that Danny never could. She couldn’t believe how easy it was with Karen, feeling like she was heard, knowing her girlfriend took her seriously, feeling completely safe in her relationship for the first time in a long time. She couldn’t believe how easy Karen made it seem to care. It was hard not to compare this to what she had known at first. But then she started getting used to it, used to thoughtfulness and trust. Used to the way love was supposed to feel. And soon enough, she couldn’t remember a life that didn’t have Karen Delaney in it. Soon enough, she couldn’t remember a time when she ever settled for less. It was bliss. Because she didn’t think about Danny at all anymore.

Which, of course, made it the perfect time to run into him.

Grace had always considered the coffee shop to be a safe haven; Delia was practically family now, and this space was a home away from home. She never thought that she would run into her past here, especially when her past’s apartment and office were nowhere near Chelsea. Besides, this wasn’t exactly Danny’s scene. He had two modes: sterile, uppity bars when he was still on the clock and had to entertain his clients, and frat boy sports bars when he was off the clock and planning a date night with Grace. A warm, inviting, laid-back coffee shop where its regulars formed their own little community with each other while PJ Harvey was in the background singing about her work-strong arms and washing that man right out of her hair wouldn’t normally be on the guy’s radar. It wasn’t what she was used to; she knew that was a big reason why she loved being here so much. And she knew the bigger reason was because this place was so tied to Karen.  _ Her _ Karen. The one who basked in their lazy days here. The one who knew her coffee order and always had it waiting for her at their table on the days they didn’t walk in together. The one who automatically draped her arm over Grace’s chair as they sat down and never made it feel like a habit, always like she meant to be that close. The one who never minded when Grace pulled her away from her paperback to press a kiss to her lips.

The one who was currently trying to act like she wasn’t looking over Grace’s shoulder, studying the bedroom sketch taking shape under the redhead’s pencil.

“I can feel you watching me, you know,” Grace smirked without taking her eyes off of her sketchpad. “Is your book that boring?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Karen set her paperback down on the table to pick up her coffee. “Forgive me for thinking you’re more interesting,” Karen laughed, letting her lips brush against Grace’s cheek. “Is this a rogue design or a work design?”

She loved this about her. It felt like Grace had only just wrapped up the work on her girlfriend’s apartment, and here Karen was, encouraging her to keep going on her own. Karen was so sure that Grace didn’t need the firm anymore. And while Grace was finally starting to agree, she wanted to wait a bit before fully branching out, at least until she had a little more money saved to go towards starting a business. Not to mention, there was that nagging little voice in the back of her mind telling her that Karen was only saying these things to play the supportive girlfriend, that she would have let Grace do anything to her apartment if it meant keeping the peace between them. She knew that idea was ridiculous--or at the very least, she thought it was--but she couldn’t help sliding into self-doubt from time to time.

She was getting there, though, slowly but surely, in confidence and financial foundation. And Karen seemed just as excited as she was about it.

“Work,” she said with a sigh, dropping her pencil onto her pad. “Enjoy it now before my boss shows me everything that’s wrong with it.”

Karen’s fingers brushed against her back, casually sending sparks through her body while the dark haired woman spoke. “Honey, I wish you’d let me brag about you a little more. I can do wonders with the whole word-of-mouth thing, you know.”

Grace couldn’t help smiling in spite of herself. “Yeah, I bet you can,” she said playfully. “I know what that mouth of yours is like in action.”

The shine in Karen’s eyes was blinding. “Mmm-hmm...and I don’t hear you complaining about it, either.” And with that, she leaned in and completely enveloped the redhead in a kiss.

God, there was so much power in Karen’s kiss; it stunned Grace every time. It never failed to make everything around them blur into nothing. It never failed to show Grace how much she truly meant to her. There were times when she wondered if this would ever change, if somewhere down the road, the magic wouldn’t dazzle her the way it used to. Or maybe the magic would start to fade, these kisses becoming less and less of a moment as they became more and more of a reflex; it was, after all, what time always did to relationships in her experience. But every time those thoughts started to creep into her mind, Karen always destroyed them the moment her lips cradled Grace’s. Nothing could break through this feeling.

“Um...Grace?”

Except for that. Except for him.

In an instant, she froze, unable to pull herself away from Karen, unable to turn her head to face the voice she hadn’t heard in months but still knew like it was her own. She could feel the air hit her lips when Karen broke the kiss, could feel her girl’s hand rest on her shoulder in concern, could hear “Are you okay?” whispered in Karen’s lilt. She watched as her girlfriend furrowed her brow, and was only able to shift her gaze when Karen’s eyes led the way to the stunned look playing across her ex-boyfriend’s face. It took a few moments for her to find her voice. And when she did, she hated how uncertain it sounded.

“Danny?” she asked, swearing she could hear Karen’s breath hitch beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“I met with a client nearby and decided to stop in.” He looked from his ex to the woman she had just been kissing and back again. “Is this a joke?” he asked, pointing at Karen in disbelief.

The redhead stood up, tried to pull Danny away from their table in an effort to protect Karen, even though there wasn’t really anywhere else they could go. “What does it matter to you?” she hissed. 

“No matter. I just didn’t peg you for taking the whole swearing off men thing so seriously. So, what, you’re gay now? Just like that?”

God, the way he sneered that one out. It was never easy to remember why she had been attracted to him in the first place, but right now it was impossible. “No, I’m not ‘gay now, just like that,’” she said, unable to hide the disgust in her voice at his oversimplification. She took a breath, trying not to let him get to her, trying to give him as measured a response as she possibly could. “I don’t really know where I fall on that yet,” she continued honestly. “But I know that it’s not a rebellion or an experiment or however you want to discount it to make yourself feel better. I know that I’m in love with her. And I know that you and I are done for good this time. Now that I finally know what I’ve been missing out on.”

The smugness dripped from his words. “An experience?”

“A  _ partner.” _

Danny’s arrogant confidence faltered in that moment, and Grace swore she saw him stumble back a step like he couldn’t handle the blow. She almost felt sorry for him. It’s never easy knowing the page you’re on isn’t even in the same chapter as the one the girl you’re supposed to love is on. Part of her wanted to make it better, even though she wasn’t sure what she could possibly say to do so. But just as she was starting to soften, he came back as stubborn as ever.

“You could have said something, you know. You could have told me you thought things were that bad.”

She had to actively keep her jaw from dropping. The nerve of this guy was incredible. “I did. Constantly.  _ You _ could have listened.” Grace could feel the old frustrations beginning to come crashing to the shore. She could taste the words of her worn-out arguments on the tip of her tongue. And she was about to unleash them all over again before she realized that she didn’t have to do this anymore. Because she wasn’t with him anymore. “Look, what’s the point of this, really?” she asked. “It’s not gonna change anything. It’s not gonna bring us back together. So can we just leave it be and go our separate ways?”

Danny studied her like he was trying to find a crack in her facade. His eyes were on her for what felt like an eternity. And when he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he let out a defeated sigh. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Grace nodded. “Pretty serious.”

This was their window, the one that let them part amicably, the one that let all of this become water under the bridge somewhere down the road. The one where she could still think of him as a good person in spite of his faults. He would give a sad smile, he would wish her well. It would finally be done. That’s what this should have been. This should have been their window.

Instead, he hurled a brick at the glass.

“Yeah, well...I’ll be here when she breaks your heart.”

In that moment, she saw red. She felt all the things she had just tried to keep at bay surging up again. She wanted to scream at him, about how he was never really there for her even when he was supposed to be, about how he had broken her heart more times than she could count, about how she felt sorry for the next girl who fell into his trap. She wanted to hurt him in any way she could, make him start paying for the shit he pulled during their relationship, for the shit he was pulling now. But she heard Delia call his name from the counter, ready to hand off his drink. And just like that, he was gone, flying towards his coffee before making his exit.

It wasn’t fair, the way he got to have the last word like that. Like she was the one who ignored all the warning signs (she might have lived with them longer than she should have, but she never ignored them). Like she was the one who refused to put any effort into anything (she might have lost a bit of steam towards the end, but it wasn’t like she didn’t try). Like she only left because there was some shiny new prospect that caught her eye (of course she didn’t know that she’d meet Karen when she left him, didn’t know how much her world would change, but god, if she did…). She wanted to follow him. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind. She wanted to throw all of the pain he put her through directly in his face so he could finally,  _ finally _ see what was so obvious to everyone else. She wanted to rip that illusion that they were happy out of his hands.

Until she heard her favorite voice calling her back home.

“Gracie?”

The redhead pulled herself back into reality to find a concerned look on Karen’s face, and was drawn to her like a magnet pull of safety. This, her.  _ She _ was the one who deserved Grace’s energy. Not him. Because she was the one who cared enough to give just as much as she got. Because when Grace felt as exhausted and spent as she did now, Karen was the one to let her rest her head.

This, her. She was the one who made it all worth it.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Grace mumbled as she settled back into her seat. “He’s just throwing a tantrum because he finally realized I broke the cycle.” She felt the comfort of Karen’s arm draping around her shoulder and took a calming breath. “They’re just words. They don’t mean anything.” She relaxed against the worn flannel of Karen’s shirt--the green one, Grace’s favorite, the one she was beginning to think Karen kept wearing just as much for Grace as for herself--and tried to sink into the warmth of her girlfriend’s embrace.

“He doesn’t even deserve to know you,” Karen murmured as she pressed her kiss into Grace’s wildfire locks. The redhead couldn’t help smiling to herself. She couldn’t get enough of hearing these things in Karen’s lilt, sure. But it helped to know that she wasn’t exaggerating these things about Danny, that someone else saw them too.

It helped to know that she made the right choice.

“How  _ do _ you know him, anyway?” Delia asked, making Grace startle at the sound of her voice before shifting her gaze to find her standing at their table with a mug in hand.

Grace tried to put the words together, still stunned that he had the audacity to invade her sanctuary (never mind that he couldn’t possibly know that it was her sanctuary). But it didn’t matter; Karen took the reins, much to her relief. “Honey,  _ that _ was Grace’s ex.” Grace couldn’t help but give the smallest smile over the sneer in Karen’s voice when she said that, over the way the dark haired woman pulled her in a little bit closer like she was protecting the redhead.

Maybe she was still safe here after all.

“That asshole?!” Delia nearly shouted, her eyes wide. “The guy who called me sweetheart and left an honest to god nickel in the tip jar for a honey cinnamon latte? You dated  _ that?”  _ God. Of course he did that. Grace wished she could be surprised. She had an apology for Delia at the tip of her tongue--she knew it was crazy to apologize for him when they weren’t even together anymore, but somebody had to do it--but was stopped by the way Delia sighed her way into an empty seat across from them. “Girl, please.  _ Please. _ At the very least, tell me he was a good lay. Even if you’re lying. Otherwise, I don’t get it.”

Grace always pictured the worst case scenario when she inevitably ran into Danny. She never expected to make light of it all. But she couldn’t keep the laughter from bubbling to the surface. And it gave her the release she so desperately needed. “He was...fine,” she managed lamely in between breaths.

“Oh, stop it, he was not. That was a man who  _ absolutely _ high fives you after mediocre sex.” Delia shook her head as she drew a sip from her mug.

The redhead’s jaw dropped as she gave Karen a quick swat on her arm. “You told her about that?!” she asked her girlfriend, thinking back to one of their nights at their bar, when the beer started to go to her head as they tried to one up each other by spilling about the worst sex they’ve ever had. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember how they got on the subject, but she did remember laughing herself into a coughing fit as they piled story after story on top of each other, with Danny resting peacefully somewhere in the middle. She never imagined Karen would pass her secrets on to someone else. It seemed so out of character for her.

Which probably explained why she didn’t do it.

“Uh, no…” Karen said, her voice losing the disbelief that Grace thought she had betrayed her trust as her lips started to quirk into a smile. “But you just did.”

Grace shifted her gaze to a wide eyed, horrified Delia, and felt the heat from the blush rising in her cheeks. “Oh my  _ god, _ I was joking!” Delia exclaimed. Grace’s mind was scrambling for an excuse, something to explain why she had stayed with him for so long, why she had stayed with him at all. But then she heard the way Delia gave way to a laughter that had no judgment wrapped inside, felt the way she reached across the table to slide her hand over Grace’s in commiseration, and she started to relax. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. God knows I’ve had my fair share of disasters that could put your little high five enthusiast to shame.” Delia settled back into her seat and studied the couple across from her for a moment. “Needless to say, Red, you traded the hell up.”

Grace turned her head to take Karen in. “I think so,” she grinned.

“You better,” Karen deadpanned before cracking a smile. And that was all Grace needed to wash any remaining traces of Danny away.

They were able to salvage the rest of their afternoon at the coffee shop. Delia ignored the growing line forming at the counter, figuring one of her baristas would take over. Karen ignored her book on the table, the one Grace was certain she wasn’t really reading anyway. Grace ignored the sketch she had been working on, knowing that her heart wasn’t truly in it to begin with. They carried on as if the world hadn’t just been paused to let someone invade their peace. But when Grace and Karen cut out a couple hours later, the redhead could see the look of concern her girl was trying to hide as they walked back to Karen’s apartment. Grace spent the short journey wishing she could tap into Karen’s mind, to know if it was finally seeing Danny for the first time that kept her quiet. Or if it was the way he took a shot at her honor on his way out the door. Or if there was some part of her that thought that even after all of this, there was a possibility of Grace thinking these last few months have been a mistake. As if the stress of it all would make Grace decide that it was too much to keep going. As if Danny somehow convinced her that it was in her best interest to stop.

As if stopping was ever an option in the first place.

“Honey, are you sure you’re okay?” Karen asked, pulling her out of her own head with a start. She slowly started to take in her surroundings, realizing they were at Karen’s door (how long had she been silent?), seeing the look of uncertainty twisting her girl’s features (how long had she been pushing Karen towards the edge?).

There were two parts to this, she knew. There was the part where Karen was looking out for her, and she loved her for that. Checking in on her when it would have been so easy to just leave what happened at the coffee shop behind them. She figured Karen was expecting her to be a little shaken up, to need time to process, to need a hand to hold while she does it. And Grace would have been happy to hold her hand through it all...if only she were actually going through it. It was strange, she knew, feeling as calm as she did about it. You weren’t supposed to feel calm after you first run into an ex; you were supposed to feel nauseous from the swirl of anger and sadness and regret and bittersweet memories that grew inside you. But Karen had been in her life long enough to keep the swirl from bringing her down. In a few short months, Karen had given her what she had been needing for so long, had built the bridge that let her cross to the brighter side unscathed. And she was too busy basking in the light to pay the dark any mind.

But Grace knew there was a part of Karen that was bracing itself; there had to be. She remembered the first time she set foot in Karen’s apartment, how the dark haired woman so casually reasoned away the need to decorate the place until now.  _ Everything is temporary. People either uproot you, or they leave. _ The more Karen let her in, the clearer it became that she was used to the ones she loved leaving her behind. It wasn’t like Grace would ever choose Danny over Karen; there was no way she could ever choose anyone over Karen. And she knew that it wouldn’t matter how many times she said it, or how much she meant it. She knew it would be something she’d prove over time. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to put Karen at ease now.

“I am,” she murmured, hoping her smile was as reassuring as she wanted it to be. “I really am. If anything, he just showed me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” She slid her arms around Karen’s shoulders, reveled in the way her girl’s touch wrapped around her waist. “It wasn’t ideal. I kind of wish you didn’t have to see that. But Kare...he made me so glad that we’re over. He doesn’t mean anything anymore.” She brushed her lips against Karen’s softly, lingering for a moment. “Especially when you mean everything.” She let out a contented sigh as Karen rested her forehead against hers. “I’m not gonna go back to him,” she whispered as Karen relaxed against her body.

“I know, honey.” Karen’s voice was quiet, but it was sure. “I know.”

They stayed there for a moment, taking in the calming silence before Karen murmured an “I love you” and a promise to call Grace later against the redhead’s skin. Grace pulled away to find the most reassuring smile gracing her girlfriend’s face. She caught Karen’s free hand once Karen fished her keys out of her purse, letting her touch linger until the door opened. She pulled her in for one last kiss. And she waited to leave until Karen walked into her apartment.

The door was just about to close when she heard Karen’s surprised shout, and she held her hand out to prop the door open a crack. She was about to burst in and make sure her girl was okay, already mentally kicking herself for moving one of the accent tables to a place where Karen could easily run into it. God, that was the last thing she needed, having Karen trust her to completely overhaul her apartment only to make it so that no one could move around safely. This was what she got for daring to go rogue, for doing work she actually wanted to do.

But just as she was about to dive head first into a blame spiral, she heard the way Karen collected herself enough to utter a deceptively simple question.

“Stan?”

And she let the door shut completely in front of her, too stunned to do anything else.

She wanted to know what Karen’s ex was doing in her apartment, and she wanted to know how he got in (Karen never seemed like the kind of person to forget to lock up when she leaves, but hey, mistakes happen). She wanted to be there for Karen the way Karen was just there for her. But she knew her girlfriend well enough to know that Karen would try to spare her, tell her that she didn’t need to be here for whatever was about to go down and that she would call later with all the details and an invitation to come back to the apartment once the dust settles. And she knew that technically, she was supposed to be gone by now. They said their goodbyes. They made their plan for later. This felt too heavy for her to barge in on; she didn’t need to burden Karen any more than she probably already was, and she didn’t want to invade her girl’s privacy like that. So she reluctantly stepped away from the door and made her exit, the journey back to Riverside Drive filled with worry she tried to push to the furthest corners of her mind. She tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.

But she hoped to god Karen would call her tonight.

* * *

  
She had no clue what they did to deserve this onslaught of relationships past, but it was clearly her turn now.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

Karen barely got the words out, stunned by the sight of Stan on her new couch--in the living room Grace just redecorated, no less, she couldn’t believe he had to come in and tarnish her sanctuary like this--and the certain disaster she just narrowly escaped. She had wanted to invite Grace in, decompress after that unfortunate reunion with Danny (good  _ lord, _ she tried to find whatever it was Grace saw in him and just couldn’t do it), try to show her girl that she would never be like that. But something made her bite her tongue; she wasn’t quite sure what. The idea of giving Grace a little bit of space, maybe. Or giving her the opportunity to break it down for Will, to get the unbiased opinion that Karen obviously couldn’t give. She couldn’t put her finger on it before.

Now she knew what it was.

But Stan wasn’t about to budge anytime soon. “Nice to see you too, dear.”

“Stanley, I’m not kidding. How did you get in?”

“Karen, I’m your landlord. Remember? I’ve got a set of keys.”

Oh. Right. It didn’t excuse him from coming by like this. But right.

“Cripes. You scared the hell out of me.” She set her own keys down on the kitchen counter in a huff and shrugged out of her coat. “You can’t do this, you know,” she said as she tossed the coat over a chair at the dining table. “You can’t let just yourself in here whenever you want, drop in unannounced. That wasn’t part of the deal. I need a little warning first.”

“Well, I called an hour ago, but you didn’t pick up.”

“So you decide to show up anyway? God, that’s typical.” She made her way over to the couch but refused to sit down next to him, opting instead to stand on the other side of the coffee table with her arms crossed and her glare sharp. “Whaddya want, Stan?”

She could never break through his poker face. When they first met, it was intriguing; she liked that there was a bit of mystery about him, wanted to spend her time trying to figure him out, thought he would start letting her in piece by piece, was convinced that someday soon she would see his whole picture. As the years went on, it became frustrating; someday soon kept getting pushed back, she felt like she didn’t know him any better than she did when they first met, and the mystery was starting to wear pretty thin. But now that she’s all but severed her ties with him, it was unnerving. He was up to something; she knew he was. She knew there was no way to prepare herself for whatever he was about to spring on her. And she knew that whatever it was, it would hit her harder than it would have if she kept his ring on her finger. He let a smile start to crawl across his face that Karen was positive was meant to be deceptive. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. I just thought I’d check in, ask how you’re doing. See if you’re ready for me to take you back home.”

God, he sounded so sure of himself, so sure that this was still some crazy whim of an experiment that he could entertain until it stopped being entertaining. “I’m not coming back to the manse,” she sneered, hating how defensive she sounded. She couldn’t call it home before all of this; she wasn’t about to start calling it home now. “If that’s all you came here for, you can go. I’m not in the mood to play this game.”

“Fine.” Stan took a breath, dropping the smugness in an instant. And somehow, that was worse than putting up with his charade. Because his charade didn’t send a chill through her like his sudden seriousness did. “You want to know why I’m here? People are starting to talk. They keep asking about you, wondering where you are. I’m running out of excuses. Frankly, I shouldn’t have to keep making excuses for you. If you insist on keeping up this nonsense, I’m going to need you to start showing yourself from time to time.”

She couldn’t contain the bitter laugh that had been building up. Of course this was all about his image. Of course this was all about keeping the illusion of their happy relationship intact. She’d feel sorry for him if it wasn’t so infuriating. “Oh, come on! You can’t be serious!” she scoffed. “Honey, I don’t owe you arm candy for your nights on the town. I don’t owe you anything.” She started pacing around the living room, needing to burn off the red hot, angry energy that was filling her. “You know, the whole point of this separation is for us to be  _ separate. _ Pretending like nothing happened kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”

“You know what? You’re right. For all I know, you’ve found a job, started to support yourself. If you have, tell me now, and I’ll drop the whole thing, start treating you like the rest of my tenants. I’ll take you seriously if you tell me you’ve moved on; I’ll leave you alone. But something tells me that little redhead of yours has distracted you from becoming a truly independent woman.”

Karen froze, her heart free falling to her stomach. Impossible. He pulled it out of thin air; he didn’t know what he was talking about. He couldn’t. Not when they’ve spent most of their days at Delia’s lazily killing time and feeding their caffeine fixes. Not when they’ve spent most of their nights at the bar down the street sneaking away to the pool room in the back and betting the next round on how many songs would play before that couple hashing out their usual argument filled the jukebox with their patented Tracy Chapman soundtrack. Not when they’ve carved out a life that didn’t even touch Stanley’s world. She wasn’t about to deny it. But she wasn’t about to back down, either. “How do you know about her?” she asked, refusing to give him the privilege of knowing Grace’s name.

His smirk made her sick. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he gloated. “If you’re going to indulge in these secret rendezvous, maybe you should stay away from the boat basin. A few weeks ago, the Sterlings decided they wanted to take their boat out on the water the same night someone who looked an awful lot like my fiancée was getting pretty close to another woman around our slips. And you know Janine, she’ll jump at any opportunity to take someone down a peg. She couldn’t wait to tell me how you seemed to just throw away everything I had given you to slum it with a stranger.” He shook his head. “I was able to play it off. I reminded her how easy it was to mistake one person for another in the dark. But I knew. Of course it was you.”

“Lord, I could  _ kill _ Janine Sterling,” Karen muttered under her breath, surprised that Stan was able to hear her.

“Why? It’s not her fault. I mean, come on, Karen. Is this seriously what my money is being used for? Your little rebellion?” He gave her a once over and made her wish she had a place to hide from his gaze. “Look at you. This isn’t who you are. You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re embarrassing me.”

Karen looked down at the faded green flannel she was wearing. She had it for years, but she was getting more use out of it now than she ever did before she met Stan. Because it was Grace’s favorite. Because every time she wrapped her arms around her girl when she wore it, Grace told her that this was where she wanted to live. Because it became so tied to Grace that she threw it on every chance she got. But now, under his gaze, it started to feel wrong against her skin. “This is who I was when you met me,” she mumbled. “This is who you supposedly fell in love with.”

“And then you outgrew it.”

“I didn’t outgrow anything, Stan. I let you turn me into someone I didn’t even recognize.”

Stan shrugged. “I didn’t hear you complaining about it.”

Incredible. She knew he never listened to her. Every time she pushed back on the things he insisted on, telling him that she was starting to lose herself to fit his ideal, she knew he was never fully there. She knew what he looked like when he gave her his full attention; she hadn’t seen that look in his eye in years. She was used to his lack of attention. But being used to it didn’t make it any less disappointing. “You never once heard a thing I said, did you?” she asked, her voice betraying her as it started to crack. “But you know what? It’s okay. Because I have someone who hears me now. I have someone who knows the real me. And god knows I wouldn’t have appreciated her as much as I do if you never checked out of our relationship.” 

She looked at him sitting there, completely unmoved, and realized she couldn’t do this anymore. They were hanging by a thread long before Karen moved out of the manse; it was pointless to do anything but cut that tie once and for all. They should have done it months ago. It was unbelievable that they had let it go on this long, although Grace  _ was _ really good at making her forget about Stan. Maybe she was distracted before. She wasn’t now. “Let’s face it, Stanley,” she said. “We both know there’s no coming back from this. I’m happy now. I’m not about to give that up. So why don’t we just--”

Stan raised his hand to quiet her, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Unless you have a plan B, I’d rethink calling it quits.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because if I go, your bank account goes with me.” 

In an instant, all the air disappeared from the room. “Honey, you wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“I’m not heartless. I can part with whatever you’ve got left. But why should I keep sinking money into all of this when I’m getting nothing out of it?” He watched her like he felt sorry for her, and she hated how pitiful she must have looked in this moment for his eyes to show something resembling compassion. “A few events here and there are all I ask. It won’t kill you. In fact, I think it’s more than fair.”

She couldn’t believe she forgot about the money. She couldn’t believe she let herself get so used to him giving her every little thing that she didn’t even think to start planning for a future without him. But even if she had started to plan, it wasn’t like she would get that far. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually worked. She couldn’t do anything that would turn a profit. She couldn’t turn to Grace (or, god, even Delia) for advice without having to explain how she got herself into this mess in the first place. And while there was a decent amount of money left, she had forgotten everything she ever knew about saving it. There was no way out of this, and they both knew it; she would be broke in no time without his help.

The corner he had backed her into was small and suffocating. There wasn’t space for anything but her sigh of defeat and a single word.

“When?”

Stan softened the second she relented. “Thursday night, dinner and cocktails. The firm’s trying to reel in a high-profile client, which means I need to use every tool in my arsenal. Which means showing off my beautiful fiancée as she charms the hell out of every single person in the room.” He stood up, ready to leave now that he got what he came for, before he let his gaze drop to Karen’s bare left hand. “You’re not wearing your ring,” he said simply.

Karen slid her hand into the pocket of her jeans, shifted her gaze to the floor. “Why would I be wearing my ring?” she asked, barely a whisper.

There should have been some snide answer ringing through the apartment. Something to make her feel worse than she already did. But after a few beats, the silence made Karen lift her head to meet Stan’s genuinely surprised eyes. He looked like he finally started to realize how serious she was about all of this, that it didn’t matter if he expected to see her back at the manse when it wasn’t where her heart was. He looked like he had honestly believed everything was fine up until this point, like this was just something Karen needed to get out of her system before they walked down the aisle. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with the fact that he let himself believe a lie. For a fleeting moment, she truly felt for him. She knew what it was like to take a step back from it all and get a good look at the mess they made, to know that there was no use in trying to clean it up. She wanted to say something, anything, to make it easier. Until he took a fortifying breath and destroyed the softness that reminded her of the man she had fallen in love with.

“Make sure you wear it Thursday night.” He made it to the front door before he turned to face her one last time. “I brought one of your dresses over for you to wear. I’ve laid it on the bed. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

And then he was gone.

Karen didn’t know what to do with herself at first; she felt rooted in place in the middle of her living room over his invasion of her privacy, unable to start up again after her world grinded to a halt. But she had to do something with the anxious energy building up inside of her, before it ate her up. When she was finally able to move, she started pacing, from the couch to the dining table and back, again and again until the lightbulb in her head went off, blazing the path to the pack of cigarettes in her purse. She ripped through her bag until she found the cigarettes and fumbled to light one up, sure that if she inhaled deep enough, it would start to clear her head (or, at the very least, cloud it). She waited for the first couple of drags to recalibrate her, feeling like she could finally start to shake Stan’s visit out of her system.

Until she remembered that he left her a present on her bed.

She made her way to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway the second she saw the dress bag draped over her mattress. She felt her nerves start to kick into the next gear and took another deep drag off of her cigarette, hoping the smoke would smother them. She had half a mind to take her lighter to the dress and burn it to ash, moved towards her bed wondering how quickly she could get rid of whatever Stan decided was the right thing to wear. It could be so simple, to toss it and give herself a few days to figure out how to get out of the sheer torture of sucking up to a group of pompous, entitled men she couldn’t tell apart. Hell, she could just shove it down the trash chute right now and be done with it.

Although...she  _ was _ curious to see what outfit she ended up with.

Karen’s breath hitched when she unzipped the bag to find her favorite dress inside. Emerald green, off-the-shoulder. Hugged her curves in all the right ways. Every time she put it on, she felt unstoppable, like she had the world wrapped around her little finger. She thrived in that dress. And Stan knew that. He may have been blind to everything else, but even he couldn’t ignore the sheer glow she radiated whenever she wore it. Devil. It was all part of his plan; she was sure of it. Slip her the dress. Wait until she finally tried it on again. Make her remember how good the confidence and attention feel. Use that as the gateway, slowly but surely luring her back into his arms and his world. And she could swear that she’d resist it as much as she wanted. But Karen wasn’t completely sure that she could. Even now, there’s a small part of her already beginning to fall for it.

After all, it was what she knew.

After all, it was easy.

She couldn’t stand to look at the dress anymore, rushed to zip the bag back up and shove it in her closet before throwing herself on the bed and lighting up another cigarette, knowing it would take a few more to make her feel better. Because she hated how much she was doubting herself. What if Stan was right? What if she was running away from the person she was supposed to be? When she thought about it, she had to face the facts. She didn’t know the first thing about being on her own. She didn’t know how to take care of herself without someone else’s money. She didn’t know anything about the life she was trying to lead now; anything she could have held onto from her life before Stanley flew out the window the second he laid his eyes on her. So what if this really was an illusion? It would have been fine if she was alone. It would have been fine if she was the only one falling for it. But Delia befriended it. And Grace fell in love with it. And she was sinking deeper and deeper into it every day. What if she was just digging herself a hole she could never climb out of? What if she was lying to Grace? What if she was doomed to be chained to Stanley Walker forever?

What if, what if, what if...

Eventually, she snapped out of it, looked out her window to find that the sun had disappeared. She couldn’t tell how much time she had lost being so deep inside her head, and hated that Stan could still get to her like that. She knew that nothing she did on her own would help to ease her mind. All of that anxious energy was still swirling inside of her and she had nowhere to put it. It felt wrong to stay still, to stay silent, to be alone. So she did the only thing that made any sense.

She picked up the phone, and she got a hello.

“Honey?” she asked, hoping her voice wouldn’t give her away. Even though she knew that was the reason she dialed the number in the first place. Even though she knew her lifeline on the other end could always hear her, even when she tried to hide.

“Kare? What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t give an answer; she wouldn’t even know where to start if she wanted to. “Listen, I know I just saw you. But I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You won’t be. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right over.”

The thought of staying in this apartment for a minute longer, when she swore she could still hear Stan’s voice bouncing off the walls, made her skin crawl. “Actually, let me meet you at the bar. I could use a change of scenery right now. Okay?”

Grace’s voice never could hide her smile, and good lord, Karen didn’t realize how much she needed to hear it now. “I’ve got the first round,” the redhead said, her words as warm as ever. And as they hung up the phone, Karen felt the balm of her girl’s lilt start to soothe her.

She raced to get ready, trying her best to ignore the dress in her closet, certain that this was exactly what she needed. She just needed the fresh air of the walk to the bar. She just needed a few drinks, a couple of good songs on the jukebox. She just needed the possibility of the pool room in the back, the air thick with the memory of how far they went the first time, the promise of Grace eyeing that doorway and joking about how Karen never did finish teaching her how to play the game. She just needed to be around someone who reminded her of who she truly was.

She just needed Grace.

She’d figure out the rest later.


	10. Heaven on Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YG7Dbai4ytU)

_**“Don’t you know that you are golden?** _   
_**Don’t you know that you are pure delight, baby?** _   
_**It doesn’t matter what they’ve painted on you** _   
_**You can wash it all away tonight”** _

_ November 1994 _

Grace just wanted to know what she did wrong.

At first she didn’t blame herself; she blamed him. Stan. Because it was logical. Because he deserved it. Because it was the one thing she could do in a situation that made her feel completely helpless. When Karen asked her to meet at the bar that night, she didn’t want to give herself away. She wasn’t about to pry, tell Karen that she knew she had a visitor, ask her for details she might not be ready to give. As much as she wanted every single detail of what went down once she left the building, it wasn’t her place to rush it. Grace would sit with her, have a couple beers, dance around the subject for as long as Karen wanted until the air was finally settled enough to tell her story. It didn’t matter if it took all night: Grace just wanted to be there for her.

But when she walked in, she found her girl already seated at the bar, one empty pint glass in front of her while her hand was wrapped around a second half-empty one, and she wondered just how close Karen was to spilling it all. After all, it looked like a slow night, only a handful of women scattered across the room. It would be so easy to carry on a conversation without being overheard; maybe that was the promise that would get her to talk.

“I thought I was buying the first round,” Grace said a little too brightly when she sidled up to the bar, pressing a kiss to Karen’s cheek before shrugging out of her coat.

She could see right through the smile Karen tried to muster. “Well, now you can buy the third,” she replied. It was murmured like a joke, and if it weren’t for the missing gleam in Karen’s eye that usually accompanied the tone, Grace would have taken it as one. The redhead signaled the bartender for a beer before slipping away to the jukebox with the quarters she had shoved in her pocket on the way out of 9C’s door. It was all part of her plan, provided she could get her songs in before that damn Tracy Chapman couple took over the music. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to be part of tonight’s thin crowd just yet, giving her the perfect opportunity to load up on the songs that could tell Karen that she was here for her, that whatever happened, they could make it okay.

It was on the nose and completely transparent. She was sure Karen knew what she was up to the second she moved towards the jukebox. But it was all she could think of to do.

“So what’s going on?” Grace asked when she settled into her seat. “You sounded kinda freaked on the phone.” She slid her arm around her girl’s shoulders, and couldn’t help but notice how Karen didn’t relax against her touch until the soothing guitars of “Power of Two” started to fill the bar. She couldn’t tell if that was a point for her or against her.

The dark haired woman parted her lips like she was about to unleash an ocean of frustration and fear. But after a beat, she curled them into a smile and shook her head. “You know what? We don’t need to talk about that right now. Let’s just have fun tonight.”

Well. Easier said than done. Karen shifted her gaze back to her glass while Grace drew a long sip from her own. They let their silence rival the music spilling from the jukebox. For a moment, Grace was convinced that they would never be able to break through it. But then something took hold of her, sparked the slightest hint of boldness. She moved in closer to her girlfriend. And when she was able to fill herself with that blend of smoke and gardenia she had come to love, she took a breath and let herself feel the music.

_ “So we’re okay, we’re fine…” _ she sang, soft and low, surprisingly controlled, close enough to Karen’s ear so that hers was the only voice her girl could hear over the Indigo Girls’ guitars.  _ “Baby, I’m here to stop your crying…” _

Karen furrowed her brow. “Honey, what’s this? What’s happening? What’s going on with your voice?”

Grace pulled back a bit, surprised by her reaction. “What do you mean?”

Slowly, the light was starting to come back to Karen’s eyes, the light that always shined when she started to play. “I  _ mean, _ this isn’t what you were serving the last time you sang to me. What happened to the deranged opera singer who let loose while she painted my bedroom?”

The redhead couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled to the surface. She had no idea how Karen was able to ask something like that with so much love; in anyone else’s mouth, it would have been an insult, but if Grace didn’t know any better, she could swear that Karen loved the way she couldn’t carry a tune. It gave her hope that maybe they could turn this night around after all. “Oh, see, you never said you wanted me to let loose,” she smirked. “I was just trying to be nice. But I can do that, too.” She straightened up in her seat and filled her lungs before letting her warble out in full volume.  _ “SO WE’RE OKAY, WE’RE FI--” _

“Honey, honey, honey, shhhhh!” In an instant, Karen lunged to cover the redhead’s mouth. It took a second for Grace to realize that her girl’s body was shaking with her breathless laughter. “Good lord,” she barely managed. “Do ya wanna get us kicked out of here?”

Grace waited until Karen pulled her hand away. “No,” she said, taking in the way Karen finally looked like herself again. She let her fingers travel along Karen’s jawline. “I wanted to see this.”

It was like she had found the key to the cage and flung the door wide open. Karen rediscovered her spirit, and if Grace hadn’t known that Stan paid an unwelcome visit earlier, she never would have guessed that anything was wrong. So they didn’t talk about what was bothering Karen; it didn’t matter in the moment. Maybe she just needed a night to unwind, some time to process. Grace was sure she would hear all about it tomorrow.

But tomorrow came and went. And the next day. And the next. Stan’s name never came up. Grace never felt comfortable enough to ask. And that glow that came from tone-deaf singing proved to be only temporary.

The first couple of nights, when they defaulted back to the bar, Grace was able to blame the dark clouds hovering over them on the Tracy Chapman duo using all of their jukebox money on as many rounds of “Baby Can I Hold You” as they could buy, and Delia sitting down next to them with a beer and the distinct feeling that Nadine was starting to pull away from her again. Something about the new friend that’s been hanging around with Nadine more and more lately made Delia suspicious. The fact that Nadine started having a few more late nights without her made her fearful. The music filling the bar was making her think too much. And she needed someone to talk her down, talk her into staying, talk her into leaving. Talk her into anything. Any other time, Grace knew that Karen would have told Delia to kick her to the curb. Any other time, she would have given some impassioned speech about how Delia was worth more than this and she needed to start acting like it, to stop settling for the tiny scraps of attention Nadine was willing to give away. But this time, Karen let out a sigh, started running her finger around the rim of her pint, and commiserated.

“That’s how it always goes, isn’t it, honey?” she said. “Someone always busts in to shatter your perfect little illusion. And then everything just goes to hell.”

And Grace couldn’t find her voice fast enough to give any kind of rebuttal. So she spent the night trying to figure out what Stan could have said--or, honestly, what he could have done--to make her think that.

She couldn’t shake Karen’s words out of her head, couldn’t stop thinking about how resigned her girl sounded. And she was determined to do something else with her the next night. Something far away from the bar and the same sad song on the jukebox over and over and the ghost of Nadine’s probable affair hovering over them. She would ask Will for a good dinner spot, something a little nicer than what they were used to; she wouldn’t mind dropping a few extra dollars to treat her to something special. They would get dressed up; everything they had done up until now had been so comfortably casual that Grace never really got to see Karen stun in a dress. She would show Karen that whatever Stan led her to believe was wrong. She called Karen up that Thursday morning, asked her if she was up for a night on the town. Karen told her that she had plans, and she would call later.

Two days later, Karen still hadn’t called. And Grace finally started putting the blame on herself.

She tried not to let it show. But she couldn’t stop thinking about that last call, about Karen backing out on a potential date night. It was the first time that had ever happened, and she struggled to remember a single day in the time that they were dating where she didn’t see or talk to Karen for at least a few minutes. Maybe it was too much; they had only been together for a couple of months but it already felt like they packed a lifetime into their relationship. She had never felt like that before, and she wanted to be surrounded by that feeling as much as she possibly could. But maybe it overwhelmed Karen. Maybe the whole thing was starting to wear a little thin. Maybe Karen was starting to have second thoughts on being with a woman who had never been with other women before. Maybe she wanted space. Maybe whatever Stan said to her was starting to sink in. Maybe they were careening closer and closer to the end.

Grace just wanted to know how to work through this, how to make Karen feel better, how to get back on track. But she didn’t know where to start. And she wasn’t about to go to Will with this; as much as she probably needed a reality check, something about it coming from him would definitely make it too real, especially when she was convinced that he would confirm all of her sinking suspicions. So she put on a brave face, made it look like she was heading out to meet Karen at the coffee shop from time to time when she was really just wandering around the city trying to clear her head. She said Karen was doing fine when Will or Michael asked after her. It seemed like she had this part of the disaster under control.

She thought she had been able to hide it well.

Then Will dragged her back to the new club downtown.

He tried to play it like a family outing, something fun to kill a little time. Jack was itching for a night out, Michael didn’t have to work late hours right now, and wouldn’t it be nice to just be together, Gracie? But she knew this game. She knew that if he was truly looking for a night together, he would have made a perfectly lovely one at home. She knew that he would be pushing for an extravagant home cooked meal and a game night that Jack would have rolled his eyes at but given in to after a couple glasses of wine. And she knew the reason he was leading her through the club doors right now was the same reason he did it over the summer. There was just one difference between then and now.

She hadn’t been depressed about ending things with Danny. But radio silence from Karen was all but killing her.

Grace watched as Jack started swaying to the music and decided rhythm wasn’t the only dancer tonight as he made his way to the middle of the dance floor, sighing to herself. This club was the last place she wanted to be right now, and not for any of the usual reasons. She didn’t mind how packed the dance floor was; she could always get lost in that sea later, if she was feeling up to it. She didn’t mind how loud it was; she wasn’t really in the mood to hear the thoughts swirling in her mind anyway. She didn’t even mind the overpriced drinks; it was Will’s tab and Will’s money, and if he was going to make her do this, she would happily make him pay. But if Will truly knew what was eating at her over the last few days, why the hell would he take her to the place where Karen Delaney accidentally walked into her life? What made him think that she was going to do anything other than what she was doing now, sitting at the bar and watching the entrance through waves of dancers under neon lights, getting lost in the memory of the most striking dark haired woman changing her world.

“So...how long has it been?” Will asked above the constant beat pulsing through the club, pulling her back into reality, pushing one of the round of vodka sodas her way.

Grace refused to look at him at first, fixed her gaze on the lime she was squeezing into her drink. She could feel Will’s and Michael’s eyes on her, could feel herself start to sink under them, and wasn’t about to make this easy. “Since what?” she shrugged.

“Since she called you.”

She let out the nervous laugh she knew he would clock the second it left her lips, but was determined to ride it to the bitter end. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  
“Gracie, we live together. Don’t play that. The phone has been ringing off the hook for you ever since you started dating her. And now, all of a sudden, it stops? What happened?”

“Yeah, what didja do?” Jack shouted over the music, taking a quick break from the dance floor to swipe one of the drinks off of the bar and give the redhead the eye of judgment.

Grace shot daggers at him. “I didn’t  _ do _ anything,” she sneered, shooing him away to the dance floor. She waited for him to shrug and dive back into the crowd before she turned to Will and Michael. “Which is probably why she hasn’t called,” she confessed. “Stan was in Karen’s apartment last week when I walked her home.”

“What?!” She startled at the way Will and Michael reacted in unison. It wasn’t like she didn’t think they’d be surprised; she just wasn’t expecting it to knock them down flat. She squirmed under Will’s stare as Michael became the first one to find his voice again. “So, what, you were just standing there while they hashed it out?”

“No, I didn’t even make it into the apartment. He was in there already, I heard her talking to him before the door closed.”

Michael furrowed his brow. “Wait, how did he get into the apartment?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he say to her?”

“I don’t know.”

Will finally picked his jaw up off the bar. “Well, has this happened before? Is it gonna happen again?”

“I don’t  _ know, _ okay?! God…” Grace buried her face in her hands, hating how right she was for not wanting to bring this to them in the first place. “I thought when she called me that night, she would tell me everything. And then when she didn’t, I thought she needed time to process.” There it was, the spiral that was waiting to spin. The words started spilling out of her mouth faster than she could try to stop them. “So I tried to give her time to process, and then the days kept going by, and she still didn’t say anything about it, and then she stopped saying much of anything at all, and then she backed out on a date night, and then she stopped calling altogether, and  _ now… _ now I’m here and everything reminds me of her, but she’s not here. You are, because I screwed everything up. I should have gone in there, I should have been there for her.”

Will slid his arm over her shoulders while she took a long, sad sip off of her drink, waiting for the music to dissolve her monologue before he spoke. “Sweetie, I know you think you didn’t do what you should have that day, but it’s probably better that you didn’t go in. Karen was with Stan forever, right? Whatever he wanted couldn’t have been good. You don’t want to be caught in the middle of all of that.”

“But that’s just it! Karen was with Stan forever. What if he made her realize she made a mistake in leaving him? We only met a few weeks after they broke up, and those feelings don’t just disappear the second you say goodbye.  _ And _ she keeps saying how everything is temporary, how everyone leaves eventually. I know she says those things from experience. But what if she’s right? What if she decided that day that she wants to get back together with him? What if she’s just buying time to find the right way to tell me she’s leaving me?”

“Grace, that’s not gonna happen.”

It was so matter-of-fact that Grace had to scoff. “Oh yeah? Why not?”

Will looked her straight in the eye. “Because women who take you on a starlit boat ride just to tell you they’re in love with you tend to be in it for the long haul.”

Oh. Well. He had her there.

She wasn’t quite ready to give into that notion, but of course Will was prepared for it. She stiffened out of defiance as he pulled her in closer, and she could swear she felt him laugh against her. “Why do you think I brought you here tonight?” he asked.

“To torture me,” Grace said, her deadpan refusing to skip a beat. 

But Will’s sincerity didn’t skip a beat, either. “To  _ remind _ you. To light a fire under you. Look, the last time we were here together, you and Karen had the strongest instant connection I’ve ever seen. You might not have known why you were feeling it back then, but it was so obvious that you were feeling it. And it was so obvious that she was feeling it just as much as you were. That’s not something that goes away overnight.” He gave her an encouraging squeeze. “So you hit a small bump in the road. Congratulations. That means you’re in a relationship. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”

Deep down, Grace knew that. She knew what they had was different than anything she had experienced before. And she knew that it would take more than some horrible ex to tear them apart. But Grace just could not get past the fact that Karen didn’t come to her with this. Sure, her girlfriend wasn’t the most open book in the world, but over the last few months, she could tell that Karen was getting more and more comfortable with the idea that Grace could keep her stories, her thoughts, her fears safe. Grace was positive she could keep everything Karen was feeling towards Stan safe too; she just wasn’t sure why Karen couldn’t see it. “Then why hasn’t she called me?” she asked, her finger tracing the perspiration on her glass.

Michael leaned over the bar so he could look Grace in the eye, waiting for the redhead to meet his gaze before he spoke. “Grace, I get wanting to give her the space to process everything, but...did you ever think about calling her?”

Grace took a breath, ready to shout that “Yes” across the bar that was on the tip of her tongue as a reflex before she realized it was a lie. All this time waiting for Karen to call, it never once occurred to her that she had the power to pick up the phone and end this silent streak. God, she must look like an asshole to Karen. She must look like she doesn’t care. She must look like she’s just turned into the kind of person both of them had thought they’d finally broken free from. What did it say about her that she couldn’t even come up with such a simple solution on her own? “Oh my god, I need to call her.” She looked from Michael to Will. “Right? I need to call her!”

Will shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he said. “Just check in. Give her the space to talk if she wants it. Let her know that you’re still there for her if she doesn’t.”

“Or, you know...just tell her that you miss her,” Michael said.

In that moment, it was as if the clouds had parted. There was a light at the end of this. And she was the one who could make it shine. She felt hope start to fill her lungs with each breath. She felt the weight start to slide off her shoulders. And she let the first genuine smile in days start to play across her face. “Yeah,” she sighed, bringing her glass up to her lips. “That’s not a bad idea.” She took a sip off of her drink as she took a good look at her friends, feeling an overwhelming amount of love and gratitude for the family she fell into. “You know, you two don’t have to babysit me tonight,” she said after a beat. “I’ll be okay.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know…”

“I do,” she assured him. “Come on, when’s the last time you guys had an honest to god night out together? Go, dance, have fun. I’ve got what I need here.”

She watched as Will glanced over at his boyfriend, nodding to the dance floor before Michael smiled and took his hand. He got up from his stool and pressed a kiss to Grace’s cheek. “The second you want to leave, you come find us, okay?” he asked. And just as Grace agreed, he led Michael into the sea of dancers.

Grace turned around in her stool to face the dance floor, her back against the bar as she drained the rest of her drink. She found Will and Michael in the crowd, holding each other close, smiling and singing to each other like they were the only two people in the club. It overwhelmed her to see how happy they were together. After years of watching Will get his heart broken, after so many late nights trying to put the pieces back together over cheap cake and frank conversation, this was what he had been waiting for. This fit. This was perfect. And she wanted that. She  _ had _ that, even if it didn’t feel like it tonight.

She could keep it, too. If she would just reach out.

What was she waiting for, really? Why had she been so willing to let all of this time go by without letting Karen know she was here for her, no matter what? What was so thrilling about sitting in a crowded club watching Jack’s impassioned lip-sync to “Tell It to My Heart” from across the room that she had to stay in her seat? It was pointless. It wasn’t making her happy. It wasn’t what she wanted. She needed to get out of here, now. She needed to get some air.

She needed to find a phone.

Thankfully, she knew of one that was close by.

Grace weaved her way through the crowd, making a point to bypass Will and Michael; just because she needed to cut her night at the club short didn’t mean they needed to. She grabbed her coat at the coat check and rushed out the door. It was still pretty early in the night. If she hurried, she could race down the few blocks to the coffee shop and catch Delia before she locked up (it helped that she had been dragging her feet lately because of Nadine, waiting until the last possible minute to go home), she could ask to use the phone. She could fix this tonight. All she had to do was dial. She was so wrapped up in her plan that she couldn’t see two steps in front of her. Which was why she didn’t notice the person walking her way until she collided into them.

“Watch where you’re going, will ya?”

“Sorry, I--” Grace stopped the second she recognized the voice.  _ Her _ voice.

Impossible.

The redhead took a step back to find Karen’s furrowed brow directly in front of her and sighing a relieved “Oh my god.” Before she could tell herself to take it slow, before her girlfriend even had much of a chance to register who she had just run into, she pulled Karen into her arms, holding her as close as she could. “This is perfect, now I don’t have to bother Delia,” she murmured as Karen relaxed against her body.

God. The way Karen’s arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her safe, keeping her warm. The way Karen’s confused laugh tickled her ear and sent a tingle down her spine. It had only been a couple of days without it, without her, but it was incredible how much Grace had missed this. “Whaddya bothering Delia for?” Karen asked.

“Her phone. So I could do what I should have done days ago.” Grace sighed as she looked Karen in the eye. “I am so sorry I haven’t called. I wanted to give you the space you needed to deal with whatever was going on. But I should have tried to check in, you know? I should have--”

“Honey, no, don’t do that. I’m the one who should apologize. After all, I’m the one who pulled the disappearing act.” Karen’s gaze shifted, unable to land on anything for long; Grace could see the gears turning in her mind as she tried to come up with the right words. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just didn’t know what to do. Gracie, something happened a few days ago, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

In that moment, Grace felt a chill spread through her body that couldn’t possibly have come from the mid-November air. For days, all she wanted to know was what happened with Stan, what he did to set her off, what he did to make her to make her close herself off, what he did to make her wish she never had the misfortune of crossing his path. She never once thought to entertain the possibility of Karen remembering why she fell for him in the first place, or Karen thinking that their story might not be done yet. She never once thought to entertain the possibility that Karen could leave her the next time she saw her. But she had never seen her girlfriend look so nervous before, like whatever she said was going to bring the world to a screeching halt. And she started preparing herself for the worst.

“I saw Stan,” Karen started. “He came by the apartment, asking if I was ready to come home yet, telling me I wasn’t acting like myself. Can you believe that? He sounded so sure of himself that I think I believed him for a second.” God, Grace couldn’t take it. Karen’s voice was too soft, like she was trying to cushion the blow as much as possible. She wished she would just get it over with. “But I had you on my mind the entire time, honey. You’ve made me feel more like myself than I have in years. You bring me back to who I am every time I question it.”

Grace tried like hell to swallow her smile, but couldn’t contain it in time, relieved to see the ray of light that broke through the dark. “So, you don’t want to break up with me?”

_ “What?! _ Grace, of course not!” Karen brushed her hand along the redhead’s cheek, her touch an extra boost of reassurance that Grace didn’t realize she needed. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you go.”

The weight was lifted off of her heart so quickly, Grace was certain she would have floated away if Karen hadn’t been holding her. “Thank  _ god. _ I just didn’t know what to think, you were acting so strange the last few times I saw you, and then you stopped calling. I thought I did something. Or maybe seeing Danny freaked you out.”

“Trust me, seeing Danny didn’t freak me out. Seeing Stan did. I’m never gonna be able to get rid of him. You don’t deserve to deal with that. He’s just always going to be this cloud hanging over us no matter what I do. Especially now, because I--”

“Wait, just...stop for a minute. Karen, Stan isn’t gonna scare me off.” Karen parted her lips like she wanted to protest, but Grace was convinced she could reassure her. “Look, we both have some heavy ex baggage to deal with. But we don’t have to deal with it alone anymore. I can carry this with you. I just need you to let me. Okay?”

Karen took a beat, studying the redhead for a moment, like she was wondering if it could be that simple, like she was about to tell Grace it wasn’t. But then she nodded her head. And she murmured, “Yeah. Okay.” And the relief that surrounded them made Grace think she could float through the air all the way back to Riverside Drive, Karen’s hand in hers the entire time.

She had an idea just then. Maybe it was crazy to think it was the answer. Maybe it was too soon. But she knew it was the perfect thing to make them both feel better. “I think we just need some time around good people. I want you to meet my family.”

“Your family? Honey, don’t they live upstate?”

“What?” She furrowed her brow, motioned towards the door of the club where her guys were still dancing and drinking before she realized who Karen meant. “No, no, not  _ that _ family. Believe me, we could be together for a million years and you still wouldn’t be ready to meet my mother.” To be fair, if anyone could go toe to toe with Bobbi Adler, it would be Karen. But they were still pretty new, and she wasn’t about to chance scaring her girlfriend off. “I mean the one I fell into. Come over for dinner tomorrow night. I want you to meet Will and Michael and Jack. Officially, not in a loud club full of random, sweaty gay guys.”

It was small, but Karen’s laugh started to push the weight of Grace’s doubt off of her shoulders. “You sure they’ll be okay with it? It’s kinda last minute.”

“Are you kidding? Will puts together his best meals under pressure. He’ll ruin you for all other food. Plus, they’ve been dying to spend some time with you. They wanna get to know the woman I can’t stop talking about for themselves.”

The silence went on for too long, like she shouldn’t shrug that doubt off just yet, like Karen was driving right past considering the invite, straight to figuring out the kindest way to let her down. Grace’s mind started scrambling for something to save face.  _ Don’t worry about it. It was a stupid idea. We can save it for somewhere down the line. _ Anything to get the spirit of Karen’s laugh back. But then she saw the spark in Karen’s eye. And she heard her girlfriend’s voice tinged with a smile.

“What time do you want me there?”

And she knew they were going to be fine.

* * *

She wasn’t sure how long she could put up with this.

Karen honestly didn’t think it would be this hard. It never was before, even if it was the last thing on earth she wanted to do. There wasn’t much to it; smile and nod, scope out the closest exits for a smoke break, make sure there was a clear path to the open bar, keep the glass full until Stan decided it was time to go. It was simple, second nature, something that required her presence but didn’t require her to be present. And if she could go through the motions of these monotonous events in the time she’d been with Stan, she could do it again now. Especially if it meant keeping the peace with him until she could figure out how to live without his money.

The only thing was, she didn’t have Grace back then. She didn’t have Grace showing her how thrilling it could be to be fully present, to not simply float through life. She didn’t have Grace to help her feel the weight of a good thing before it slipped out of her hands, to help her truly feel the weight of a bad thing so she could know the difference. She didn’t have Grace bringing her back to life. And now that she did, she couldn’t stand being the only one in the place who was rooted by gravity while everyone else around her continued to float.

The emerald dress  _ did _ help a little, though; she had to hand it to Stan. After so many months of jeans and t-shirts and flannel, Karen was half convinced her body would reject anything that wasn’t threadbare and overworn. But as soon as she put it on, she felt that confidence start to wash over her, studying herself in the mirror and instantly recognizing the woman staring back at her, welcoming her home as she smoothed out the skirt and gave herself a once over. This woman made it easier to deal. This was the woman who answered the door when Stan picked her up, who was able to quiet the thoughts in her head telling her she shouldn’t be doing this even if it meant some much needed financial security. This was the woman who could fake her way through the lowest of New York’s high society. This was the woman who could breeze through this dinner and go back home to Chelsea with a decent buzz and the knowledge that she did her stupid little deed for the night. This was the woman who walked into that dinner on the arm of a man she no longer loved, ready to take on whatever was about to be thrown at her.

But the further they walked inside, the more that woman disappeared into dust, the harder Karen found it to breathe.

Stan kept her by his side as much as he could, grabbing for her hand every time she tried to put a little distance between them, like he thought she would run away if she was out of reach (if she was being completely honest, Karen had been scoping out the closest exits for more than just a smoke break). He let her flail for a life preserver in the sea of questions about her absence from the circle these last few months, clearly enjoying himself whenever she fumbled for some bullshit reason that could save face. She could feel Janine Sterling’s eyes on her before she even saw Janine Sterling, and she felt completely helpless. This woman was the reason Karen was dragged here in the first place, and there was nothing she could do but stare daggers at her every time she turned her back. She couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair it was. She couldn’t stop thinking that she should be at Delia’s with a cigarette and a cappuccino, sitting on the counter while Delia closed up. She couldn’t stop thinking that if Delia was here, she’d probably figure out a way to spit in Janine’s champagne flute or oh so subtly trip her on her way to the bar. She couldn’t stop thinking about how Stan wouldn’t let her out of his sight long enough to even try to do either of those things.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Grace. About how all she wanted to do was meet her for a beer at the bar or sweet talk Delia into letting them in after hours to tell her all about tonight over coffee, get a little sympathy from her girlfriend until she felt good enough to make fun of this whole production she had to suffer through. About how she wanted to show Grace all the things she saved her from. But she couldn’t. Because Grace had no idea that she used to belong to this version of New York, that she still couldn’t quite escape it. Grace had no idea how she got such a prime spot in Chelsea or how she’d been able to keep it without working for a living. Grace had no idea about Stan, even though she thought she did. Grace had no idea. Which made it impossible to even think about what to say to her once the sun rose on a new day.

Which was why she let two days go by without saying a word.

Karen didn’t mean to do it, would never willingly leave Grace hanging the way she did, especially when she knew her energy was a bit off the last few times they got together. Lord, the things that must have been going through Grace’s head, wondering what it was she did to turn her girlfriend into someone distant. She felt terrible that she let that time go by without so much as a word, when their normal had been long phone calls until they fell asleep, coffee during the day and cheap beer during the night, martinis in Karen’s apartment when they didn’t want to share each other with anyone else. She just knew Grace would ask her what she had been up to, innocently checking in the way a good girlfriend did without realizing how loaded that question was. And she knew she needed time to find the right words to explain it all. Because she did want to explain it all. She hated keeping this from her. And they were still new enough that they could make it through relatively unscathed if she came clean. They could bounce back, they could move on. If only Karen could find the right way and the right time to tell her. 

When she quite literally ran into Grace outside the club where they met, Karen figured it was the universe telling her it was the right time. She hoped that the right way would come to her once she started her overdue apology, hoped that this wasn’t the blow that ended them. And she tried, she swore she did. She tried to tell her everything. But Grace kept dismissing it as standard ex baggage before she could even tell her what the baggage was. Grace told her they could handle it. Grace seemed fine not knowing the whole story, at least for now. So Karen thought she could take a little more time to find the right way to let Grace in.

Karen was going to tell her. She was. But a dinner party with the people Grace loved most in the world didn’t really seem like the appropriate scene to talk about how her ex-fiancé was dabbling in financial blackmail.

Grace had told her not to worry too much about the dinner; it was only meant to be this laid back, fun, casual thing so that her guys could get to know her girl a little better. But Grace was no casual fling. This was no dinner to float through. And Will, Michael, and Jack were expecting to get to know Karen better just when Karen was realizing she didn’t know herself all that well to begin with. She wished she could call on the confidence of that emerald dress to give her that extra boost; looking at herself in the mirror tonight before she left for the Upper West Side, her black turtleneck and dark wash jeans weren’t giving her the energy she needed. But it was the best she could do, the best version of herself she could put together under this new cloud of doubt Stan had cast over her, the one that made her question how she ever got someone as real as Grace interested in someone who could fake it with the best of them. She spent the trip to her girlfriend’s apartment convinced she was going to mess this up, give off the wrong vibe, make Grace regret even suggesting this in the first place. She did her best to mask her uncertainty as she knocked on 9C’s door. But as Grace opened up and found Karen on the other side, her eyes grew wide. She blurted out an “Oh, my god.” And for the life of her, Karen couldn’t place the inflection.

Maybe Grace had her all figured out. Karen wouldn’t be surprised, and she’d have no one to blame but herself. After all, she was the one who was still marked with the things Stan painted on her, the one who wouldn’t be able to wash it away no matter how hard she tried, the one who probably still had remnants of it on her skin the night she met Grace, before Stan barged in and gave her a fresh coat. It was foolish to think that she could ever make a clean break. It was foolish to think that she wouldn’t be dragging Grace down into the muck with her if she kept agreeing to be Stan’s arm candy whenever he needed her. She ran through a million excuses in her mind with lightning speed, trying to pull out the one that could let her back out of this dinner party without too much damage and give herself a little more time to work her way out of the impossible situation she got herself into. 

Until a smile started to play across her girl’s face and quieted all the bad thoughts in her head.

“You look  _ amazing,” _ Grace drew out.

Karen furrowed her brow, letting go of the breath she didn’t realize she was holding; after spending a night in the dress, this felt like nothing. “Really?”

Grace nodded. “I cannot  _ believe _ I have to share you tonight,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Karen’s waist.

This was what she needed. This was what would bring her back to the place she was certain was home. The way Grace nuzzled into her neck before planting a kiss there. The way she lingered, the way her wildfire hair brushed against Karen’s skin. The way she closed the gap between their bodies every time she held her, like she always wanted to be as close to Karen as she could possibly get. This was real. This was what told her who she was. This was what told her she could make a clean getaway after all, far from everything that had always been strong enough to hold her back.

This was what made her feel like she already made it.

“You know, this  _ was _ your idea,” she murmured, unable to resist teasing her girl before brushing her lips against Grace’s. “But if we’re quick,” she managed in between kisses, “we can probably...catch the elevator...before it leaves the floor.” But as soon as the words left her lips, she had no idea why she would suggest being anywhere other than here, in this embrace with the taste of these kisses on their tongues. They could stay rooted to this spot for all she cared. The dinner didn’t matter. The boys in the apartment didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the urgency in Grace’s kiss, enveloping her completely, making everything else around them fade to black.

Until...

“Ewww, Will! Grace is Frenching a girl in the hallway!”

They froze for a moment, wide-eyed and lips still pressed together, like if they didn’t move, whoever interrupted them would think he was seeing things. Karen could hear Grace groan as she pulled away, could tell the redhead fully realized what she was getting them both into, turning around to face the guy who interrupted them (Jack, it had to be Jack; Karen vaguely remembered mistaking him for Will’s boyfriend that night at the club). “Is it too soon to apologize for everything that happens tonight?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth; Karen knew by the way her voice wrapped around the question that she was only half joking. But before she could reassure her that it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle, she recognized the guy who was sitting next to Grace at the bar the night they met coming into view to save the day.

“Jack, quit it, leave them alone!” Will shooed his friend away from the door, rolling his eyes before putting on a kind enough face to greet their guest with. “Karen,” he smiled. “It’s nice to see you again. Come on in.” Karen felt Grace’s hand slide to the small of her back, comforting, reassuring as she walked into the apartment, just in case her girl needed it. And good lord, her girl needed it. She hated feeling this nervous. She hated that she had no control. She hated trying to gauge the person everyone else wanted her to be and fit into that box. She hated how many times that box could change dimensions over the course of one evening. She loved Grace more than she could say. But she hated everything she assumed this night was going to be.

That was, until Will handed her a full martini glass. “Grace told me they were your favorite,” he said before she could thank him. “She also told me that mine pale in comparison to yours, so this might not be the best welcome.”

Karen nudged Grace with her hip. “You’ve got a bit of a mean streak in you, don’t you?” she joked.

Grace shrugged matter-of-factly. “Not mean. Honest,” she smirked.

Karen drew a sip from her martini and instantly felt her nerves begin to settle. Will was making an effort; he wasn’t out to get her (not yet, anyway). She didn’t need the walls she reinforced to make it through Stan’s hellscape of a dinner party. She could relax a bit. It had been a long time since she could relax around a virtual stranger. “I gotta hand it to you. That is one smooth drink.” She raised her glass to Will in thanks as she saw Jack approach her out of the corner of her eye, taking her free hand, spinning her around slowly as he studied her.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Grace asked, the hint of horror in her voice bouncing off of Karen’s “Oh!” of surprise as she was being twirled.

“Look at you,” he said like he didn’t hear the redhead’s question, eyes growing wider in wonder as he looked Karen up and down. “You are  _ fabulous!” _ Karen was careful not to spill her drink as she slowed to a stop, letting out a delighted laugh as he motioned towards her outfit. “I am loving everything about this.”

“I’m kinda loving everything about  _ you _ right now, honey.”

His face beamed before he glanced over at Grace. “You know, you could learn a thing or two about how to dress from your girlfriend over here.”

Grace narrowed her eyes and looked down at her oversized crimson sweater. “What’s wrong with this?” she pouted. “It’s comfortable.”

“Oh, Grace. Grace, Grace, Grace. Fashion over comfort, have I taught you nothing?” And as quickly as he swooped in, he floated to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine.

Karen had to admit, she loved Jack’s energy; giving her that little unprompted ego boost certainly didn’t hurt things. But when she looked over at her girl, still looking down at her sweater with her mind clearly in overdrive over how this could possibly be a faux pas, she made her way over to her like a magnet pull, guiding her by the chin until their eyes met. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re comfortable,” she murmured. “And you know that if I had shown up tonight in the flannel, he would have been all over me.”

Slowly but surely, Grace started to crack a smile. “And I would have thrown down. I will not have anyone badmouthing the flannel, thank you very much.”

“There’s my girl.” Karen pulled her in, felt her head start to swim over the way Grace sighed into their kiss. She was never much of a believer; she always had the feeling that her prayers would go unanswered if she said them. But the way this felt right now, the way Grace’s warmth radiated off of her and the way she refused to break away even though Karen was certain they had an audience by now, was the closest she had ever come to believing in some form of heaven. No games, no pretending. No reason for Grace to put on a show for the ones who knew her down to her core. Only love. Karen knew she’d never get tired of it.

“Is she here yet?”

The dark haired woman reluctantly pulled away at the sound of another voice coming from the hallway. Before she knew it, Michael had scooped her up into the friendliest hug, the furthest cry from the way she had been greeted when she was on Stan’s arm the other night. “Finally, I get to meet the famous Karen!” Michael exclaimed. When he let go, she could see the genuine welcome shining from his eyes. “I can’t believe I wasn’t at the club with everyone that night. Sounded like there was a real love connection.”

“I don’t know,” Karen quipped. “Does it count as a love connection if it took two months to get to the first kiss?”

“You got there. So it counts.” He glanced over to the dining table and saw that Will was setting everything up for dinner. “Well, I hope you’re hungry. Will made pot roast.”

Karen laughed to herself, remembering the night Grace started redecorating her apartment, the night she failed miserably in trying to make a home cooked meal, how Grace told her what Will really thought about her own pot roast to make Karen feel better. “Not tire tread?” she murmured to her girl, thrilled when it got a laugh out of her.

“It would have been if I let Grace anywhere near the kitchen,” Will said.

She decided to take a page from Grace’s book. “Yeah, well, that’s why God invented delivery.”

When they sat down to dinner, Karen was just waiting for someone to go in for the kill, some little get-to-know-you question that seemed innocuous to everyone else but was so loaded, she wouldn’t know where to begin. But Will served everyone, passed a bottle of wine around, and after few moments of silence spent savoring the first bites of their meal (lord, Grace was right, Will  _ did _ just ruin all other food for her), she watched as the others fell into easy conversation, catching each other up on their days. For a moment, Karen thought she could escape it entirely; maybe the interrogation tactic wasn’t their preferred way of learning more about the one Grace gave her heart to. It made sense; how were you truly supposed to get to know someone when you ask questions that can only lead to false versions of them? Why settle for the obstructed view when you could get them to let their guard down and see everything for what it was? Karen could feel it working, could feel her own guard start to disappear. But as soon as it started to feel good, she heard it.

“So, Karen. What do you do?”

Devil. It could have been such a simple question for anyone else, but for Karen, Will just went for the jugular. What the hell was she supposed to say? She didn’t do anything. She drank spiked coffee at Delia’s every day and lived off of her ex-fiancé’s money, waiting for something to break the tether that seemed indestructible. She loved Grace; that was the only thing she did that was worth anything. But Will already knew that; she wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. It was a cop-out answer to distract him from thinking that she wasn’t good enough for his best friend. She couldn’t tell him that. So she tried to finesse the truth a little bit. “I...well, I’m in a bit of a transitional period right now. Still trying to figure out what I want to do.”

There it was. The moment when the expectations and the boxes to fit into came back into play. That slight narrowing of the eyes she was sure Will didn’t think she could see, but still held judgment. He had every right to judge her; god only knows what Grace told him during that bout of radio silence to make his alarms go off. Mix that with the fact that she had a decade on Grace and she still couldn’t figure out what she should be doing, and it was a recipe for disaster. And as much as she appreciated Jack coming to her defense, she had a sinking feeling it wasn’t going to help. “I know what you mean,” he said. “See, I’m an actor. And I’ve been trying to decide if I wanna keep going for these commercial gigs, or if I want to start going to something a little meatier.”

“Jack, you’re a cater waiter,” Will deadpanned. “You need to actually book a job to be an actor.”

Jack’s jaw dropped to the table. “Excuse me! Rudeness!” He took a deep breath, prepared to go to war with Will, before Michael swooped in to stop the inevitable.

“Hey, you know what? It’s never too late to find your calling. I mean, I was in a dead-end office job for years that had nothing to do with my Communications degree. But I wasn’t concerned with figuring out what I wanted to do with my degree; all I cared about was getting any job I could get so I could pay off my loans. And then one day, I realized I couldn’t do it anymore, so I quit. Eventually, I found an advertising gig I love. It just takes time.”

“I guess I’m in a similar boat,” Karen said, the heaviness in her chest beginning to subside once she realized she had Michael on her side. “I only majored in English at Sarah Lawrence because I already read a lot and I figured I could have something to show for it. But nothing ever really came of it. And then my ex…” She couldn’t say his name here, she just couldn’t. “My ex convinced me that I didn’t need to work, because he could take care of the both of us. I believed him. Which was a mistake. We were good on money, but I was miserable.” She took a breath, let it out slowly. “So I guess I never had a chance to figure out what I wanted.”

Underneath the table, Grace slid her hand over Karen’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’ll figure it out,” she said with more confidence in the words than Karen could have ever been able to muster. But it sounded so true, she couldn’t help but believe her.

She could feel herself start to buckle under the kindness and knew she needed to do something to save a little face. “Yeah, well...maybe in the meantime, I can help you out when you start your own business,” she said, tracing her finger along her girl’s shoulder.

Will crooked his eyebrow in what looked like disbelief. “You support that?” he asked. “Danny never did.”

“That’s why Grace traded up, duh,” Jack mumbled under his breath.

Karen flashed a smile to him before returning to Will. “Sure I support it,” she said. “You don’t?”

“No, I do. Of course I do. It’s just...you don’t think it’s a risk?”

“Of course it’s a risk, honey. But why should that be a reason not to do it? Everything that makes life better comes from taking a risk. I’m sure you know all about that. Grace told me you started your own practice two years after you graduated law school, even though you had a pretty cushy position at an established firm.” She motioned towards Michael. “You quit your job so you could find your true calling.” She shifted her gaze to Jack. “You take a risk every time you put yourself out there for an audition. Hell, I wouldn’t be here having dinner with you kids, I wouldn’t be with Grace, if I hadn’t taken a few risks.” She took the redhead’s hand in hers and looked straight into her eyes. “And Grace makes life better.”

Karen saw the way Grace started to melt into the sentiment, saw the way her girl’s eyes started to glass over with tears. She knew she only stated the obvious; she didn’t think it would get the reaction it did. But she remembered how, twenty-four hours ago, Grace was convinced that she wanted to break up. She remembered how she was to blame. She remembered how she let down the one person who lifted her up. And she realized how much Grace probably needed to hear the obvious. Any apology Karen had for her would have been too private for this scene, but she had to do something. So she leaned in and brushed her lips against Grace’s, hoping it would say the things she couldn’t.

Later, when they finally had a minute alone, she would say them. But for now, she swore she could taste forgiveness in Grace’s kiss.

Will waited until they broke apart to speak. “You know what,” he said, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I can’t argue with that.” And just like that, Karen started to feel the weight of expectations and fitting in boxes start to shift off of her shoulders again.

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. Good conversation, drinks and jokes flowing. It wasn’t hard for Karen to see all the things Grace saw in these boys. It wasn’t hard for her to feel the love that filled this apartment; it surrounded her, almost like it wanted to envelope her, too. It was the kind of love she never truly believed existed before she met Grace, that unconditional love, the kind someone gave you that was based on who you were instead of what you could do for them. The kind she was starting to let herself believe she deserved. The kind she wanted to be around all the time. And in that moment, she was certain she could. She was certain that it could be this simple, to find a family that cared about you, to have the sheer luck of finding people you felt this comfortable with, even in the silence, even in the conversations forcing you to peek around the darker corners of your truth. It already felt like they were making a place for her, and they were just waiting for her to take a step in and close the circle. And it already felt so good.

She didn’t want it to end.

So of course it did.

“Well, this was cute,” Jack declared suddenly, standing up from his seat, throwing his napkin down over his empty plate like some grand declarative statement. “Come on, we’re going to Boy Bar.”

Will let out a frustrated sigh as he moved to clear the table and load the dishwasher. “Jack, I am not going to Boy Bar. What happened to having a nice, quiet night at home?”

“Yeah, we just did that,” Jack said, inching his way towards the bathroom to freshen up. “Now we’re going to Boy Bar.”

“Oh, come on, Will, live a little,” Michael teased as he came up behind his boyfriend in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around his waist. And then, once Jack was out of earshot, “We can always sneak out to that diner we found last time for a cup of coffee.”

Will closed the dishwasher before turning around in Michael’s arms, his smirk growing. “That coffee was terrible,” he said, his words light enough to float.

“But we practically had the place to ourselves,” Michael murmured, the smile in his voice beginning to match the one playing along Will’s face. “And it was quiet. And we could actually have a moment alone together. So I don’t know about you, but I could definitely go for some bad coffee.”

Karen couldn’t help herself, watching this moment between them from her seat at the dining table. This was probably their normal, had been for the five years they’ve been together. Quiet, fleeting moments like this in the kitchen. Nothing special; down the line, they won’t even remember that it happened, because there were a million other moments exactly like it. But it was so obvious to her just how much love they had for each other. It was so obvious that they were each other’s person. And it overwhelmed her. She smiled to herself, hoping she and Grace would look like that in five years.

She never looked ahead to the future like this before. Then again, the future had never looked so clear to her before.

“Come on, let’s  _ go,” _ Jack called out when he came back, commanding everyone’s attention, his foot impatiently tapping against the hardwood floor once he reached the front door. “You coming?” he asked, wagging his finger between Grace and Karen.

“Uh, I think we’re good here,” Grace said. She gave Karen’s hand a squeeze as she shifted her gaze to her girl. “Unless you want to go out?”

Karen shook her head. “Let’s stay here,” she said. “I think you and I need to make up for a little lost time.” And she swore she would choose to stay in for the rest of her nights if it meant she could make Grace’s eyes light up the way they did now.

“Suit yourselves,” Jack shrugged before making his way out the door.

Karen could feel the traces of Will’s frustration radiate off of him as he bent down to kiss Grace on the cheek. “Don’t trash the place,” he joked.

“Love you too, Dad,” Grace mumbled.

The boys were almost gone when Michael turned around. “It was so great to meet you, Karen!” And then, just as the door closed behind them, he said it low enough for Karen to know it was not meant for her to hear, but loud enough that she heard it anyway. “I  _ really _ like her.”

And Karen couldn’t help the grin that broke out along her lips.

“See,” Grace said, leaning in close, her breath tickling Karen’s ear. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Well,” she drew out, waiting until she felt Grace’s lips brush against her cheek. “I don’t know how much I really impressed Will. But I like him. I like them. I can see why you love them so much.”

“Please, don’t worry about Will. He’s protective, but he engaged more with you tonight than he ever did with any of my boyfriends the entire time I was with them. You even got a few smiles out of him tonight. Trust me, you’re golden.”

_ Golden. _ It felt so freeing to be golden. Maybe once she went back home, the other shoe would drop. She would remember the deal she made with Stan, remember that he would always be there no matter how far she ran away from him. She would try to remember what it felt like being here and be surprised at how quickly she could forget it. She would try to grasp for something that was just out of reach. But now, she could still hold on to it. Now, she was still golden.

“I’m glad I came, Gracie. And I’m sorry that it took me falling off the face of the earth for a few days to get here.”

Grace shook her head. “Karen, we’re past that. You’re here. That’s what matters now.”

“I’m here,” Karen whispered, pulling Grace into her arms. She closed her eyes for a moment to take in the weight of Grace against her chest, the way she burrowed as deep as she could before coming to rest. “I love being here. I kinda don’t want to go home tonight.”

The redhead didn’t miss a beat. “So don’t go,” she said, her voice muffled against Karen’s turtleneck.

Karen smirked in surprise; somehow, she wasn’t expecting it to be that simple. “Really?”

“Really.” Grace lifted her head to meet Karen’s gaze. “I want you to stay with me tonight. I want to know what it’s like to wake up with you.”

God, Karen wanted to know, too. She dreamed about it. Falling asleep with her girl resting peacefully in her arms, opening her eyes to a new day, still wrapped in a tangle of limbs. Staying in bed until the last possible moment because neither of them wanted to break the spell. The promise of doing it all over again. They had come close once, the night they painted Karen’s bedroom. They had fallen asleep together, their skin and hair still splashed with lavender; but the next morning, Karen had woken up to find a note from Grace telling her she wanted to wait to wake up with her until they reached the night they finally got to know every last bit of each other. It was a promise she couldn’t stop thinking about. But if she was being completely honest, she had been thinking about it before their first kiss, back when she was convinced she was starting to fall for a straight girl but let herself go there anyway, even though she knew it would end in disaster. She wanted it as soon as she could possibly have it. But she never wanted to rush Grace. She knew this was brand new for her, and she wasn’t about to race past Grace’s timeline. So she refused to be the first one to bring it up, wanted Grace to get there on her own so she could be sure that this was a step they both wanted to take. She could wait; she wasn’t going anywhere.

She didn’t realize how sweet it would sound when Grace finally let her know she was ready. It drowned every other thought in her head until it was the only thing that existed. For a moment, she couldn’t speak, letting Grace’s words float in the air. But then she cradled her girl’s face in her hands. She saw the hope and the promise in her girl’s eyes. And she took a breath.

“Then, honey...I think we should find out.”


	11. My Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIbNpsUnB0Y)

_**“My lover makes me weak** _   
_**Gives me breath to speak** _   
_**My lover takes me home** _   
_**Cools the rolling stone** _   
_**My lover’s thorny kiss** _   
_**The reason to exist** _   
_**I wonder...”** _

_ November 1994 _

It was funny how quickly the atmosphere of a room could change once the echoes of a good time died down and silence filled the space. In Karen’s experience, it was never a good thing. Because in Karen’s experience, it meant that she had made a mistake in Stan’s eyes. Staying quiet when he wanted her to schmooze with the best of them. Saying too much when he expected her to simply stand there and look pretty. Looking like she was miserable in the cycle of cocktail hours, dinners, and benefits when he needed her to at least fake being happy. Actually enjoying herself at one of those things when he thought she needed to dial it back. She never knew what would turn him to ice. But she could always feel the chill the second they were alone. It was why she built her walls so high in the first place, so she could keep herself warm whenever Stanley froze her out.

Tonight, though, the silence was different. When the atmosphere of apartment 9C changed, after the guys were well on their way to Boy Bar and left the girls to their own devices, it was warmer than Karen had ever known silence to be. And it was only partially because Grace was busy lighting a fire in the fireplace. It stunned her at first, learning that quiet didn’t always have to be a weapon. The lull that showed itself after Grace invited her to stay the night made her nervous, purely out of reflex; it always was a lull that told her she lost a battle she didn’t even realize she had been fighting in until it was over. But when she looked into Grace’s eyes tonight, they didn’t turn to ice the way Stan’s always did. And it felt incredible to know that there was no secret to earning Grace’s love, that Grace didn’t think love was something to be earned.

There was no battle this time. They both won.

They didn’t need to make a sound; Karen knew that now. But if Grace was going to try and set the mood with the fire, the least she could do was make her own contribution. She made her way over to the stereo, crouching down to open up the cabinet underneath, revealing the seemingly endless possibilities for their soundtrack for the night. “Honey?” she called out as she ran her finger along the spines of CD cases she was surprised to see matched her own tastes. “Are your guys gonna kill me if I raid their music collection?”

The first crackles of Grace’s fire snapped to life before her reply. “How do you know it’s theirs?” she asked. “I live here too, you know.”

“I  _ know _ that. But I also know that I have never once heard you sing along to anything more than ten years old.” Karen smiled as her eyes landed on a Billie Holiday collection, and she brought it out from its resting place. “Tell ya what,” she said, standing back up, dangling the album in front of her, letting a smile come to play across her face. “I’ll buy your drinks at the bar for the rest of the year if you can name two songs on this CD.”

Grace narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer and then another as if she couldn’t see which CD it was from that far away. She tilted her head, made a show of thinking up the right answer until she came to within inches of her girlfriend. “Uh...well…” she trailed off, frozen in place for a moment. And before Karen could react, Grace swiped the CD from her grip, retreating with a delighted grin on her lips as she studied the track list on the back. “You said you wanted two songs, right?” she teased.

“You little sneak!” Karen managed in between a breathless laugh, reaching out for the album just as Grace hid it behind her back, colliding into her kiss instead. She let herself sink into it, let the sensation go straight to her head to the point where she nearly forgot why she collided into this in the first place. It was a sensation that could make her forget a lot of things. The path she had to take to get here. The grudges she’s held against the ones who broke their promises to take care of her: against her mother, against her old lovers, against Stanley. The possibility that this could disappear in the blink of an eye, because history never stopped teaching her all about that inevitability. What a life without Grace felt like. She loved getting lost in all of this, like she was finally getting everything she deserved. She loved the way Grace got lost in it, like she was forgetting paths and grudges and bad possibilities too.

But right now, in this moment, she loved the way it made Grace loosen her grip on the CD.

Slowly, without breaking away from Grace’s kiss, Karen slid the album from her girl’s hand and into her own. When she went to move, Grace wrapped her hand around her wrist, and for a second, Karen thought this was still part of the game. But there was something in her touch, the way her fingers brushed so gently against Karen’s skin, that it made the dark haired woman realize it was just her way of keeping her close. She let Grace linger there for a moment, reluctant to say anything that would shatter this brilliant quiet. But eventually, she broke away from the kiss and leaned in towards Grace’s ear. “How’s about you open up a new bottle of wine, and I’ll show you what you’ve been missing?” She inched closer to the stereo to put the music on, reveling in the way Grace’s light matched the flames in the fireplace before she turned her back.

Easy. Everything felt so easy here, the kind of easy she would have instantly questioned before Grace came along and showed her that easy wasn’t always deceptive. Could it have always been this way? Could she have had this kind of love years ago if she just held out for it a little longer, looked for it a little harder? Would she have been able to recognize the gift Grace had given her if she always had it?

Was she really going to let Stan’s ridiculous ultimatum get in the way of this?

Karen couldn’t believe she let him get into her head like that, couldn’t believe she let him take her away from Grace those last few days. He wasn’t supposed to have that kind of power over her anymore. He wasn’t supposed to have that kind of control. He wasn’t even anywhere near this apartment right now, and he was still taking over when she least expected it. She felt guilty for disappearing. And she disappeared because of him. And she knew she needed to come up with a plan so it didn’t happen again. Because it  _ would _ happen again, being dragged to another dinner, another benefit, another tired masquerade she never wanted to be part of. Stan never meant for this to be a once-and-done deal; he’ll show up again somewhere down the line with another party dress and ask her to pair it with the right mask. And she’ll have to find her balance along the tightrope he pushed her onto. But she was determined to find it. She was determined not to let Grace down again. She had finally found a good love that was honestly and unconditionally hers, after years of him slowly taking so much away.

She wasn’t going to let him take this from her, too.

“This one’s yours.”

Grace’s voice pulled her back into reality, where the atmosphere was warmer and the quiet didn’t pierce through her like a knife. She took the glass of Cabernet that was held out for her, clinking it gently against the one in her girl’s other hand before taking a sip. She lingered by the stereo, skipping around the tracklist until she found the song she wanted, smiling to herself as the music started to pour into the room, watching the way Grace closed her eyes to let the sound truly surround her. Karen could have stayed in this spot forever and been content; she had the best view of the best girl, and couldn’t possibly need anything else. But she wanted. She wanted to pull Grace in close, wanted to keep her safe in her arms. And just as Lady Day started singing about how her love went to her head like a glass of champagne, she reached for Grace’s glass and set both of them down near the stereo.

“Come here,” she murmured, easing Grace towards her by her hips. She felt Grace’s arms slide around her neck, body locked into place against her like she was always meant to be there. She felt Grace start to sway against her before she could fit her hand to the small of the redhead’s back and lead her across the living room floor. It was one of those moments, she was sure of it. Something like that quiet moment Will and Michael shared in the kitchen earlier. Something that was peppered through the many years of a strong relationship. Something that could happen so often, she might not remember this down the line.

So she tried to commit as much of this to memory as she possibly could.

Grace let her contented sigh sweep along Karen’s ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Will play this before,” she said.

“Never? That’s criminal.”

“No, I think it’s a good thing.” The way Grace’s fingers brushed against her neck sent a wave of electricity down Karen’s spine. “Because now, it’s just ours.”

Karen loved the way Grace said these things. Simple and sweet, like all she had to do was let the words hit the air to make them true. Like there didn’t have to be a million strings attached to the truth that ended up completely negating it. She says out loud that a song is theirs, and suddenly it feels like they’re the only two people in the world who have ever heard it. She says that Karen is golden, and suddenly Karen’s glowing with a 24-karat shine. It made the dark haired woman start to believe there was such a thing as the truth. She wasn’t used to it. But she liked it.

Even if there was still the tiniest voice in the darkest corner of her mind telling her to be careful.

As if Grace could hear it too, she pulled away just enough to look Karen in the eye. “Can I tell you something?” she asked.

Karen hoped her girl couldn’t feel the way she tensed up. Grace never gave her a reason for doubt. But that was a question that hadn’t ever led to anywhere she wanted to go. She took a breath and willed her voice not to betray her. “Always.”

“Remember our first date at the bar, back in the pool room, before we were interrupted?” As if Karen could ever forget. The Breeders on the jukebox. Kisses tinged with cheap beer and intensity. Fingertips that sparked fireworks against her skin. How Grace wrapped her voice around both permission and a dare when she told her to join her on that pool table. It was always there, lingering in the corner of her mind; if she closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she swore she could still feel the way Grace grabbed her by the wrist and guided her underneath her clothes. It took everything she had now not to lose herself in the thought of what could have been and give her girl all of her attention. “It might not have been what I pictured the first time to be, but I was so swept up in the moment, I would have gone as far as you wanted to take me. And I wouldn’t have regretted it.”

Crazy how hearing what you’ve always wanted to hear had the power to shock you more than hearing the worst case scenario. There was Grace, letting words hit the air and making them true. And there was Karen, sending a silent thank you up to the powers that be for hearing them with her arms wrapped around her girl, for having something solid to hold onto. Because the truth may not have a million strings attached to it anymore, but it could still overwhelm her. It could still steal her voice to where all she could manage was a soft “Honey…”

Grace brought her finger to Karen’s lips, and it took all the dark haired woman had not to brush a kiss against it while it lingered. “I know what you’re gonna say. That we deserve a better first time. And you’re right. We deserve something spectacular. I’m just wondering when it’s gonna come. It really felt like you wanted it then.”

“I did. Good lord, I can’t tell you how much I did.”

The redhead’s confidence began to falter; Karen could feel it against her body. “But you don’t now?”

Karen made sure their eyes were locked on each other before she spoke, her gaze laser focused until the doubt disappeared. “Grace...I want this. I want _ you. _ I just don’t want to be the one who pushes you into something you’re not ready for yet. I don’t want to be the one who hurts you.” She said it even though she was convinced she was too late on the latter. She had hurt Grace by disappearing on her, she was hurting Grace by keeping quiet. Even though she was doing it to protect her, to keep what they had together from breaking apart. Even though it felt like the right thing to do, at least for now. Even though she had good intentions. She truly didn’t want to be the one who hurts Grace. She just didn’t have the touch that her girl did.

It didn’t matter how Karen said it; her words didn’t sound all that true when they hit the air.

But Grace’s smile could always reassure the staunchest skeptic.

“You could never hurt me,” she murmured. “And just so we’re clear...I’m ready.”

The surge of butterflies in Karen’s core nearly lifted her off the ground. “Are you sure?”

Grace tilted her head. She let her gaze pierce through her girl. She parted her lips. “Kare, come on. Why do you think I asked you to spend the night?” And before Karen could question her luck, Grace pressed a kiss to her lips in the sweetest invitation Karen had ever tasted.

This was it. This was real. This wasn’t the kiss of someone acting on impulse, the way they had in the pool room. This was the kiss of someone who stood firm in her desires, who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid of what it meant when she got it. And as much as Karen wanted to believe that it would have been perfect if they hadn’t been interrupted that night, she now knew it would have been nothing compared to the perfection that surrounded them tonight. Because tonight, they could take their time. Tonight, they could truly be alone, make it seem like they were the only ones on earth.

Tonight, Karen could show Grace exactly how she felt about her.

Slowly, as if she was still somehow pressing her luck, Karen let her hands slip underneath Grace’s crimson sweater, thrilling over the way Grace sighed at the touch. “Which room is yours?” she whispered as she gently started to guide the redhead by the waist towards the hallway.

“The door on the left,” Grace breathed, her voice fading into Karen’s touch. And then, realizing Karen was moving backwards,  _ “My _ left.”

The thought of pulling her hands away from Grace’s body killed her. So when they got to the redhead’s door, Karen nudged it with her hip, hoping it wasn’t closed the whole way. And as they stumbled into the bedroom, it was like Karen was finally coming home. This was where she was always supposed to be; she was sure of it. This was always where all of the wrong turns and twisted paths were supposed to lead. Jumping around from one place to another for so many years finally led to this solid place to land. To having this girl in her arms. To having her name on her tongue, only to have it dissolve within her kiss. To having the moon light up the room as this girl lit up her soul. This was the moment she wanted to live in for the rest of her days.

Grace broke away from Karen’s lips long enough to pull her sweater over her head. “Jack’s gonna be thrilled that I finally took this off,” she quipped, the sting of his judgment finally wearing off as she let it drop to the floor. She took Karen’s wrists in her hands and guided her to the clasp of her bra, smiling as Karen worked to unhook it.

“Wait ‘til he finds out why you took it off.” Karen could feel the way Grace’s body shook with her laughter, learned how contagious it was until she slipped the bra off the redhead’s shoulders and saw the way she stood there, peacefully and beautifully bare.

She didn’t mean to draw attention to herself. She was positive her breath only hitched in her mind. But as Grace’s features fell and she tried in vain to cover herself up, she realized her body betrayed her. “Something’s wrong?” Grace asked, her voice impossibly small.

Devil. This wasn’t what she wanted. This was never meant to be a place where that kind of doubt could peek its head around the corner. Karen reached for her girl and hoped her touch was reassuring. “No, no, no, nothing’s wrong, I promise. Just…” How could she possibly find the right words for everything she was feeling right now? For everything she needed Grace to know? No matter how the words fit together in her mind, they were never the right combination. But she couldn’t let this silence build its wall. So she managed what she could. “Honey...you’re stunning.”

After a beat, Grace’s body started to relax. She let her arms fall to her sides. Her eyes started to shine again. And Karen could swear that smile was about to lift her off her feet and let her float. Without taking her gaze off of Karen, she moved to the bed. “The whole apartment to ourselves,” she teased as she climbed in, “Will and Michael gone for hours. What  _ are _ we going to do about it?”

Good lord, Karen loved that. Seeing those little bursts of confidence that showed themselves in Grace from time to time, when she was about to charge headfirst into uncharted territory. The night they first met, writing her number on Karen’s palm, that soft and strong  _ I’m not done with you yet _ turning the air around them into electricity. Their first date, swaying in each other’s arms as she declared that they would never destroy each other. Designing Karen’s apartment, the way she moved as she painted the bedroom once she realized she truly could do her dream job on her own. Right now, the way her voice turned at the promise of their time alone. Sometimes she wondered how often those bursts showed themselves for other people; she wondered if Danny ever got to see what a gift they were. But tonight, as she stripped herself down to her underwear and joined Grace in bed, she was only thinking about how brilliant it was that those last few bursts were meant for her.

Carefully, trying her best not to kill the moment, she studied the earnestness in Grace’s eyes and took a breath. “Whatever you want me to,” she whispered.

Grace didn’t skip a beat. “I want you to touch me.” Her eyes followed Karen as the dark haired woman moved to hover over her. She let her hands slide up Karen’s arms, coming to rest on either side of her face before guiding her to her kiss. “I just want you to touch me.”

There wasn’t a lot that could make Karen weak in the knees anymore. She always used to chalk it up to getting older, to seeing the things that life forced her to see, to meeting Stan and having everything come so easy to her that nothing felt special. And she had resigned herself to a life void of surprises. She hadn’t counted on someone like Grace waltzing in and turning her world upside down. But now, straddling her girl and hearing the certainty in that voice, knowing that she could give her what she wanted, Karen was half convinced she would buckle and collapse. For all the time she had been hoping they would get to this moment, she never could have prepared herself for the way Grace’s whispers traveled through her body. And she wanted Grace to know how it feels to have this energy coursing through her, too.

She just needed Grace to know that she was going to keep her safe first.

“The second you want me to stop,” she said, “you tell me.”

“Okay,” Grace nodded. “But I’m not gonna want you to stop.”

The weight of giving the one she loved everything she deserved. The weight of being her first in a whole new meaning of the word. The tangle of all the words she should have said growing larger in her throat. The looming thought of where they would stand when the sun came up, the infinite ways that morning after could look once they reached it. Karen felt it all as she pressed her lips to Grace’s collarbone, beginning her descent along her girlfriend’s skin. She was guided by Grace’s sighs, the way they grew a little louder as she traveled closer to her breasts, the way Grace drew them out when she discovered a sweet spot. “Stay there,” Grace managed as Karen swept her tongue over her left breast, like she was almost scared she would disappear.

Karen smiled against Grace’s breast. “I’m right here, honey,” she said, her voice husky. “I’m here.” And to drive the point home, Karen let her fingers start to dance along Grace’s other breast, quickly finding the same rhythm her tongue was following. Karen could hear the way her moan intensified, could feel her arch her back towards the contact as if it could close some nonexistent gap between their bodies, and nearly turned to jelly on the spot.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten a reaction like this out of someone.

She couldn’t remember the last time she wanted to get a reaction like this out of someone.

She couldn’t remember the last time she cared so much. That wave of wanting, of caring, nearly pulled her under now. But as long as Grace was right there with her, she didn’t mind the ride.

Slowly, wanting to tease the swell that she hoped was starting to rise in Grace’s core, she started leaving a trail of kisses down the redhead’s torso to her navel, thrilling in the way Grace’s  _ “Mmm…” _ filled the room with each one. She let herself linger around Grace’s navel as she reached down to unbutton Grace’s jeans. She slid the denim off of Grace’s body and, still half convinced this was going to end before it truly started, she shifted her gaze to her girlfriend as she let the jeans fall to the floor. She expected to see hesitation. She expected to see nerves. She expected to see a fleeting moment of doubt that Grace would hope she didn’t catch. But when their eyes met, all Karen saw was pure ecstasy. It transfixed her, freezing her in place. She wanted to get as much of that view as she possibly could, burn it into her memory so she could play it back every time she needed a reminder that she could give someone the world. She didn’t mean to stare. But at some point, a hint of curiosity flashed across Grace’s eyes, and the redhead’s brow furrowed.

“Are you okay?” Grace asked breathlessly.

Karen couldn’t help but laugh. She must have run this night in her head so many times before they got here, thought of so many different ways it could have gone. But she never could have dreamed that Grace would be the one to ask her if she was okay, instead of the other way around. If it was at all possible, it made her love Grace more. She bit down on her lip to contain herself, nodding before she could muster her voice. “Yeah. I’m great. I just love seeing you like this.” She watched Grace’s smile grow wider, her light grow brighter, and it felt impossible to pull herself away from the sight. She kept her eyes on her for as long as she could, only breaking her gaze once she slid her girlfriend’s panties off of her hips.

Grace raised herself up to Karen in anticipation, like she was craving the dark haired woman’s touch. Karen moved slowly, part of her still convinced the other shoe would be dropping soon, the rest of her knowing she could pass it off as a tease. It wasn’t that she thought Grace would pull away; they had been in this moment long enough for her to know for sure that Grace wanted this. She just didn’t want to mess this up. Grace’s first time.  _ Their _ first time. This wasn’t going through the motions with Stan. This wasn’t reaching for someone just so she could feel something, anything, she didn’t care what. This mattered. Grace mattered. And she wanted to make sure Grace felt it every time she touched her, every time she drew her tongue across her skin. Karen lowered her head to kiss the inside of Grace’s thighs, the promise of letting her in on these secrets that should never have been secrets in the first place, the things Karen had wanted for so long to say. She heard the way Grace moaned the further she traveled, begging for her to finally make her move. And she just couldn’t keep her waiting anymore.

Karen let her tongue dance in circles between Grace’s legs, the simplest of motions that made Grace cry out like it was a revelation. The redhead writhed to the rhythm of Karen’s motion, “Don’t stop” uttered with such conviction that it made the dark haired woman believe this moment was a revelation, too; it made her want so badly to blend some of her own revelations with Grace’s. She could feel the words that for so long had been too tangled to bring to the air start to unravel themselves with each move her tongue made. In one twist, there was the fact that she finally knew what love was supposed to be. In the next turn, the fact that she was scared she might accidentally lose her grip on it now that she had it, the fact that she never wanted to pile the weight of that onto Grace’s shoulders when she was already navigating her way through a confusing landscape. In the next, the fact that fear finally stopped being a reason to leave. The fact that she finally found her home. The fact that nothing could possibly tear her away from this. Not Stan. Not fear. Not any of the lies she had been led to believe about love, about life, about herself.

This was it. This was real. This was everything. It always would be.

She had never been more sure of anything than she was of this.

She could tell Grace was getting close; her breathing was getting heavier, her voice was growing louder, her thighs began to quake. Out of the corner of her eye, Karen could see the way Grace was reaching for something solid to hold onto, trying to grab a fistful of sheets until Karen took her hand without breaking her rhythm, making sure Grace knew that she would always be there. And soon after, Grace let out one final, drawn out cry filling the room before she relaxed back into the mattress.

It was funny how quickly the atmosphere of a room could change once the echoes died down and silence filled the space. In Karen’s experience, it was never a good thing. Until tonight. Because tonight, Grace made her believe that the silence could never lead to something bad. Tonight, she felt the air shift so many times in so many different ways, that she marveled at how endless the possibilities could be when you’re not bracing yourself for the worst. Tonight, in the silence, Karen let herself rest against the inside of Grace’s thigh, lingering there in the aftermath because she didn’t want to break the spell. But then Grace started weaving her fingers through Karen’s hair, beckoning her to meet her gaze. And when she did, she saw her girl, blissed out and peaceful, so far deep in the spell that nothing could possibly break it. Slowly, Karen moved up Grace’s body, hovering over her as she met her lips with a kiss.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she pulled away, looking down at Grace while she stole the question that had just been on the redhead’s lips a moment ago.

Grace’s smile was radiant. “I’m perfect,” she murmured.

Karen rested her body against Grace’s, her head against her girl’s chest, taking in how brilliant she felt, basking in it for as long as she could. She felt Grace’s heart still racing against her cheek, still in the midst of calming itself down, and couldn’t believe she was the one who made that happen. She made it happen before, she must have. A lifetime ago, with other people, in different stages of lust, maybe once or twice in love. But they were so far back in her past that she couldn’t tell you anything about that feeling if she tried. And none of those people were the girl brushing her lips against the crown of her head right now. None of those people had the hold on her heart that Grace did. None of those people made it so glaringly obvious to her that she could stop running the second she got tired, that she had a home when she was wrapped inside the arms of someone she loved. But now, she could feel Grace’s arms slip around her waist, intent on keeping her close. Now, she could shout it from every rooftop she came across and know with everything she had that it was true.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

This was home.

* * *

  
She had never felt this whole before, lingering in the moments after.

Grace always knew this time would be different, for more than the obvious reasons. Karen was a woman, one who knew her better than anybody she had ever been with; of course this wasn’t going to be what she was used to. Still, she had been waiting for the moment she knew like the back of her hand, the moment when she realized that something was missing. It happened every time she slept with someone; sometimes right away, sometimes it took a minute or two. But she always felt it, and it never made sense to her that in a moment like that, when you should be giving everything to each other, she always seemed to come up empty handed. She had always assumed that was the feeling everyone had; you got so caught up in the moment that when it was over, you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself once the air settled. Grace always wanted more when there was none. And she never questioned it.

But now, Grace was lying in her bed, waiting for Karen to come back with the wine they had abandoned in the living room. She could hear Billie Holiday crooning “Embraceable You” from the stereo, stunned that the album was still spinning (it was a lifetime ago that they were dancing in the living room, how was there even so much as a breath coming through those speakers right now?). She felt the promise of her girlfriend’s return, of the night they would spend in this bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. And she knew she had been given so much more than she ever dreamed was possible. She knew she wasn’t crazy for feeling like something was missing before, because something always was. She (finally) knew what it felt like to have someone know her body and her heart, and pay attention to both at once. She knew what it felt like to have someone take their time with her, to care enough to give her exactly what she needed, to see them act like it thrilled them just as much as it thrilled her, to believe in it all.

She knew Karen wanted her, even though Karen was her first. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t been ready for everything Karen just gave her until now; it was that she hadn’t been ready for everything to end. Because even though Karen gave her no reason for doubt, there was always something living inside of Grace that was convinced Karen didn’t think she was serious, that she thought Grace pretended like she knew what she wanted, and one day she would finally call the redhead’s bluff. Or they would get to this moment, Grace would tell her that she was ready, and Karen would decide that it wasn’t worth the trouble. It was what kept her from saying something sooner. Because she meant what she said earlier; she would have gone as far as Karen wanted to take her in the pool room on their first date. She would have let Karen’s paint-speckled hands travel her body the night they redecorated the bedroom. She would have welcomed a moonlit first time on the boat, after their first I love yous hit the air. She would have turned any one of their kisses into everything she had been dreaming about from the minute she realized Karen wanted to be with her. If only she could have been sure Karen wouldn’t change her mind about loving a woman like her.

It was foolish, she knew. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, all the while ignoring the reassurance she had been getting this whole time. Not listening to the part of her that put all of its trust in this woman. Going so long without moving. Something had to give. She had to take a risk.

She didn’t mean for her quaint little family dinner to lead to this. But once Jack started forcing Will and Michael out the door to Boy Bar, Grace couldn’t help but take it as a sign. And now, she was thinking she needed to take risks more often.

Karen came back into the bedroom with their glasses in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other, an absolute vision in black lace as she set everything on the nightstand. She glanced over at the grin sprawled across Grace’s face and started to match it. “Whaddya giving me that look for?” she asked as she topped off their glasses.

“No reason,” Grace said, taking the glass Karen was handing her. “I just like watching you move.”

“Oh yeah?” Karen drew a sip from her glass as she started swaying her hips to the rhythm pouring from the stereo. It was a tease, Grace knew it was. But god, she couldn’t help the way her eyes started to roam. “Maybe I should just stay right here for the rest of the night then. You know...so you can keep watching me.”

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, this being the rest of their night. Finishing this wine. Taking in the sights. But it wasn’t exactly what Grace had in mind. So she lay there for a moment, playing like she was perfectly fine with this new plan. She waited until Karen dared to set her glass back down on the nightstand, knowing the mood she would slump into (or, honestly, the three octaves Will’s voice would jump to) if any of that wine spilled onto the carpet. And she took her girlfriend by the hand and pulled her into bed. “Come on,” she said, Karen’s body crashing into hers in the sweetest collision. She could feel Karen’s surprised laugh against her skin and nearly lost every thought swimming in her head. “You know you belong right here.” She guided Karen to her lips, her Cabernet kiss traveling through her body in a heartbeat. “Even if you  _ are _ completely overdressed…”

Karen sighed against her ear as Grace drew her finger along the lace of the dark haired woman’s bra. “Well, excuse  _ me, _ honey,” she smirked. “I wasn’t really focused on myself back there. Besides...it’s a lot more fun when someone else takes ‘em off me.”

It played as light and spontaneous but Grace knew, deep down, that Karen meant for this to happen. Like she was still easing Grace in. Like Karen being that exposed, that bare, would be too much for Grace to take right away. Like she wanted to let Grace know that she wasn’t expecting anything from her, that she only wanted to take care of her. Karen could tell her that she got her thrills by giving Grace hers, and Grace would know without a shadow of a doubt that it was the truth. It took all Grace had to hold back the tears that threatened to surface when she thought about it. Because she never had this before. She never had someone who cared the way Karen did. She never had someone who let her take her time, who never pushed, never guilted her into speeding towards a destination she wasn’t sure she was ready to hit yet. She knew Karen would have been fine with staying in the cute little place they had been since they got together. Quiet days at Delia’s and comfortable nights at the bar. Bringing takeout to Karen’s apartment after a long day at work because she wasn’t ready to go home. Dances in the living room. The safety that surrounded them every time they lingered in each other’s arms. They loved each other on Grace’s terms. But now she knew for sure that Karen wanted more. Now she knew for sure that she wanted it, too.

She wanted to give Karen that indescribable swirl of magic that was spinning throughout her own body now.

Grace walked her fingers to the clasp of Karen’s bra, hoping her girl could feel the electricity coursing through them as she undid it. She slid the lace off of Karen’s skin, brushing her kiss against her bare shoulder. As much as Karen wanted to take her time for Grace, Grace had to admit she was taking her time for selfish reasons. Her first time seeing this side of the woman who had so wholly captivated her from the start, and she wanted as much of it as she possibly could, for as long as she possibly could. Time was standing still just for them. The world did not extend beyond this room. They would not get this moment back once it had passed, but that was okay; Grace was certain she could make it last forever. She let her kiss travel along Karen’s collarbone before lifting it to the spot on her neck she knew would make the dark haired woman sigh. And when she pulled away and Karen’s body came into view, she was blown away by how beautiful she was, basking peacefully in her gaze. Grace couldn’t believe her eyes, told herself she was clearly dreaming, that the next time she blinked, she would find herself alone in this bed merely imagining what a night with Karen would be like. But then she let her fingers sprawl across Karen’s heart. She could feel the way Karen’s chest rose and fell with her breath. And there was no denying it.

This was it. This was real. This was everything.

Karen reached up to brush Grace’s wildfire locks behind her ear and smiled. “You know, I could get used to having your eyes on me like this,” she murmured. She glanced down at Grace’s touch on her chest. “And your hands.”

Grace wasn’t sure how much faith she had in herself when it came to giving Karen everything she deserved. Especially when Karen had just tended to her like she already had her body memorized. The uncertainty was hell bent on pulling her out of the moment, piercing through the thrill of knowing Karen wanted her. After all, she was barely starting to figure out who she really was, with a woman who always seemed to know exactly who she was; what made her think she had any idea what to do right now? Tongue-tied, she moved slowly, trying to build up that confidence and hoping it played like a tease, dropping her hand to Karen’s thigh and brushing her fingers along her skin until she hit lace. Karen raised her hips to let Grace take off her panties, drawing out her sigh of anticipation until she was completely free from them. The sound made Grace turn to jelly, from desire or nerves she couldn’t be sure. But before she could figure it out, Karen guided her to her lips and enveloped her in a kiss. The dark haired woman’s tongue swept over the tangle of words Grace wanted to say, once as though she could feel it there too, again and again as though she wanted to help unravel it. And then, like she understood everything that was racing through Grace’s mind, she pulled away to try something new.

“Can I show you what I want?” she asked, arching her brow.

There she was again, easing Grace in. Moving at Grace’s pace. Even in a moment that was supposed to be about her. Grace wished she could tell her how grateful she was, how all she cared about was giving Karen what she wanted and she wouldn’t have known what to do with herself if she got it wrong. But all of those things were still tangled together. So she offered up a hint of a smile as she whispered the only thing she could manage. “Show me.”

Karen took Grace’s hand in hers, cradled it for a moment. And then she locked eyes with her redhead, never once breaking her gaze as she guided her between her legs. It exhilarated Grace, feeling how Karen was turned on, knowing she played a part in it. Her fingers twitched at the surprise of it all, making Karen’s gasp cut through the air.

Oh god. She didn’t mean to do that. She wanted to have as much control over her movements as Karen did. She wanted to make sure Karen didn’t regret giving herself up to an inexperienced girl. She wanted to move to the rhythm of Karen’s body, not the rhythm of her own jumbled mind. But her own jumbled mind was making her move on accident. She was certain that gasp signaled a mistake, and she couldn’t believe she screwed it up before she could truly get started. “Sorry,” she whispered, frozen in place, convinced she just killed the mood.

But Karen vibrated with breathless laughter underneath Grace’s touch. “No, honey, that was a good thing. I promise. Keep going.” And with the way her eyes shined in that moment, there was no way it could be anything but the truth.

Grace started tracing the same circles Karen’s tongue had drawn on her, becoming more and more confident in her motions as she heard her girlfriend’s moan grow louder. It made her want to explore, to keep that sound ringing in her ears for as long as Karen’s mouth could hold it. Soon enough, she learned how to shift the cadence of it by the turns her fingers took and which shifts were her favorite. She learned to take those turns when Karen least expected it. She learned that she could make Karen’s back arch to her when she took her breast into her mouth. She learned that she could make Karen call out her name in ecstasy with a love bite to her neck. She learned that she could feel that indescribable swirl of magic every time Karen asked for more.

She learned that she desperately wanted to give Karen more.

“I could go deeper,” she whispered into the dark haired woman’s ear, her voice husky with possibility.

“Do it,” Karen managed without hesitation. “Please.”

When Grace was inside her, their bodies moved together in perfect time. Karen held onto her for dear life, her nails brushing up Grace’s back, making the redhead moan along with her. In that moment, Grace wished she could live in this night forever, the one that showed her where she belonged, the one that proved she gave her heart to the right person, even though she already knew. But as soon as she tried to will forever into existence, Karen’s body grew taut with one final cry, riding the wave of her release until she grew limp underneath Grace.

They stayed there without speaking, Grace still inside her, the sound of their breath evening out taking over the room. Billie Holiday had finally faded into silence. And Grace was overwhelmed with the feeling of home as Karen slid her arms around her waist. She nuzzled into Karen’s neck, marvelling at how the smell of gardenia still lingered on her skin. It was impossible to think she had ever lived without this. This scent, this this warmth, this feeling. This connection. This woman. This home.

God, it felt so good to be home.

“Honey,” Karen whispered, her breath grazing Grace’s ear. “That was incredible.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile against her girl’s neck. “You’re just saying that,” she teased, surprised at how easy that playfulness came to her now.

The way Karen’s laughter colored her voice was stunning. “Grace...I’m good at faking it, but I’m not  _ that _ good.”

At that, Grace lifted her head to see the twinkle in Karen’s eyes light up the room. It was meant to be lighthearted, she knew it was. But Karen was always good at deflecting. And even in the afterglow, it was hard to ignore the weight of what the dark haired woman just said. Grace knew that Stan had failed her, was still learning all the ways in which he failed her. She knew Karen had given her heart to people who couldn’t be trusted with it. As much as Karen said it was worth it if it brought her here, it didn’t erase the fact that her path was harder to travel than she deserved, with too many crooked turns and forks in the road where every possibility led to disaster. And there was no way Grace was going to let her go any further into the dark, unable to see the future in front of her for what it was.

She pressed a kiss to Karen’s lips and couldn’t help her smile as she felt Karen respond. “I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too, honey,” Karen said with enough honesty to destroy any doubt. She let it float in the air for a minute before she started to smirk. “Wanna know how much I love you?”

“How much?”

Karen shifted her gaze to their long-neglected bottle of Cabernet and full glasses on the nightstand. “This is by far the longest it’s ever taken me to finish a bottle of wine. And I’m not even upset about it.”

Grace could feel it start to bubble up in her chest, tried to keep it in for as long as she could even as it started to rise. But before she could swallow it down, she let out a burst of laughter that shattered the silence around them. She reached over Karen to grab her glass and drew a quick sip as she watched Karen get hers. “Well, god,” she quipped. “So sorry to have interrupted you like that.”

“No, honey,” Karen said. “It’s when you stop interrupting me like that that it’s gonna be a problem.”

Grace shrugged. “So then I just won’t stop.” As if it could be that easy.

Because it was that easy.

Eventually, they finished the wine. Eventually, Grace could feel her eyes growing heavier. Eventually, Karen stepped outside to make sure the stereo was turned off and the fire was finally out. Eventually, Karen climbed back into bed with her chest pressed against Grace’s back. Eventually, Grace could hear Karen’s breathing even out into sleep. And even though she was ready to follow suit, she wasn’t quite ready to leave this night behind. She knew this was the first of a thousand nights like it, that she could go to sleep and wake up in a new day and know there was the promise of being in this bed together again come nightfall. But this was the first time.  _ Their _ first time. They would never get this back. They would remember as much of it as they could, but sooner or later, the memory would start to fade around the edges. Well-loved, still hanging on, but faded. So she wanted to live in it while it was still vibrant, while she could still feel it without having to rely on recall.

As she realized she could no longer keep herself awake, though, she started to think that letting this become a memory wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Tonight, they found a foundation and built something spectacular for themselves. But once the sun came up, they would be able to come back to it, again and again, their safe space, their happy place. They could stay there as long as they wanted. They could will forever into existence. It could only get better from here. She was sure of it.

She had never been more sure of anything than she had been of this.

Grace moved in as close as she could to Karen’s body. And as she finally surrendered herself to sleep, she was comforted by the thought of it all.

The first time was like finding home.

But every time after would be a homecoming.


End file.
